


Laws Lies Love

by HamHamNeedsToChill



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Related, Declarations Of Love, Distrust, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Kissing, Grinding, Heartbreak, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Sensual Play, Sensuality, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Subplot, Surprise Kissing, Surprise Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 79,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29283828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamHamNeedsToChill/pseuds/HamHamNeedsToChill
Summary: Abraham and Hewlett's pact to kill Captain Simcoe brings them closer, and yet also further apart. Mutual hatred for a common enemy is only fuel for the fire.
Relationships: Abraham Woodhull/Edmund Hewlett, Abraham Woodhull/Mary Woodhull, Edmund Hewlett/Anna Strong
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. A Spy Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> Wow a slow build fic? From me? Get ready for an interesting ride folks! This is a rare paring; the first of it's kind; I believe. I haven't done a slow build in a long time, so we'll see how the goes! 
> 
> I will note, this fic will be very *heavily* based on the subplot in relevant episodes. Not quite giving me as much room or freedom for creativity as other sub-plot fics, but I do hope you'll enjoy my writing anyway! I wanted to try something more odd/challenging. And I suppose I got what I wanted!

Whitehall. The sun had gone down long ago, yet still the candles inside burned bright, flickering with uncertain light. Despite the late hour, many were still awake, including Major Edmund Hewlett, and Abraham Woodhull. Abraham was busy telling Hewlett about the quote on quote "spy work", trying to solidify his cover with fake tips, and lies. 

"After my arrest, they probably moved quiet altogether, sir." He says softly, hoping to end this altercation with Hewlett as soon as possible. His father's words from earlier had upset him, knowing they were true. He would have to give up some real information if he was going to keep his cover up. All of these false leads would turn up nowhere, and suspicion would be raised against him. His hands were behind his back, concealing them. He stood behind Hewlett, who was pouring over a letter by candlelight. 

"Well, are we finished then?" Edmund asks quietly, hoping they were, so he could get some rest. It had been a long and stressful day, worrying about the conflict with Simcoe's rangers that morning. Hewlett waited patiently for an answer, watching Abraham mull over something in his head, his face dimly illuminated by the candle light. Abraham finally managed a response.

"If that's all you need sir, yeah." He says softly. In all honesty Abraham was worried that if this letter got to Andre, all his hard work would be for nothing. Going to prison, being freed by Hewlett, if he was caught now...

"I think so." The Major responds, turning back toward his desk. He wondered how much Abraham would have uncovered had he succeeded in his task. The unfortunate timing of his own captivity could have meant the death of the young man. But being a prisoner had hardened him, and that was all he could be thankful for. Being alive, and stronger for it. "Well, you mustn't blame yourself for being an imperfect spy... It's a dirty business, after all." He adds, trying to make Abraham feel a little better. Abraham’s past had been mended, as far as he knew, and he was still working on making up for it.

Abraham felt the handle of the knife tucked in his sleeve, the realization dawning on him that if Andre got this letter, his mask would crumble to dust, and there he would be, plain faced with nowhere to run. He slowly drew the knife from his cuff, feeling the edge with his thumb carefully. If he was going to do this, it had to be clean and quick. Still, doubt was clouding the decision.

"Major Andre should be very interested in this intrigue nonetheless." Hewlett says. He had to admit, this was somewhat exciting, even if he was the one conveying information. He wouldn't see any of the action that came from catching spies.

"Um, how will you, uh-… How will you get all this to New York?" Abe asks, wondering how long he had to run, hide, or cover his mistakes. Cover his mistake? Well… Telling Hewlett all of this was a mistake. He felt the edge of the blade again, testing its sharpness. One quick slash with the knife would take care of his mistake.

"You mean how can I make sure Simcoe doesn't try to intercept it?" He corrects, his tone boorish and tired. He was thoroughly exhausted of Simcoe's tactics, and his incessantly annoying polite tone. The man was nothing less than a knave, and a murdering bastard. "I'll send a trusted courier to carry the letter, likely Corporal Eastin." He reasons, finding the man trustworthy and reliable. "He's made the trip several times now, and I plan to encrypt this message…" He starts pawing through a drawer he had opened, looking for a metal sheet.

Abraham took a step closer, still thinking about slashing Hewlett's throat while he was distracted. It would be quick, and messy.

"…with this." Hewlett suddenly pulls out what seems to be a copper sheet, a few rectangular holes cut out of it. The metal reflected the dim light beautifully.

Abraham was jarred by the sudden movement. He had almost thought it to be a weapon from the way he pulled it out. Still, now that Hewlett had the plate in his hand, he had to wonder what it was. He tucked the knife into his hand, keeping it secure. 

"What's that sir?" He asks bluntly, not ready for a lengthy explanation, but perhaps it would help him in some way with his own work.

Hewlett glanced at Abraham, noticing he had stepped into the moonlight coming in through the window. The silver light shone on half of the farmer's face, capturing his likeness rather nicely, Edmund thought. He looked back at the sheet in his hands. 

"It's called a Cardan Grille, named after the Renaissance astrologer Gerolamo Cardano. Cloaks a secret message inside an ordinary one." He explains, looking between Abraham and the grille a few times as he spoke. Honestly he found it rather endearing that something so clever had been devised by an astronomer. 

Abraham was endeared by no such thing, fiddling with the knife in his hands. Was now the right time?

"Which only a matching grille can reveal. It usually takes several drafts to compose a proper mask letter. It may be too dull for you to watch, so don't mind me. You've earned your rest." He doubted that Abraham would be interested in something like this, especially after all the trouble he got into for obtaining the information in his letter. He likely never wanted to think about his time in prison ever again. 

Abraham stepped closer slowly, weighing his options one final time. His face disappeared from the reach of the moonlight, swathed in darkness as he came nearer and nearer to the Major. Closer he crept to the edge of taking this man's life. He was approaching the final step, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat. This was it. He couldn't even hear the Major anymore, his heart beating fast in his ears from the adrenaline coursing through him.

"Whatever your misgivings, Abraham, know you have done well." He pauses, hoping to amend any animosity Abraham had gained for him. After all, it was sort of his fault for his whole debacle in prison.

Abraham started to take the final step, the knife coming out from behind his back as he prepared to raise the blade. He had accepted the Major's fate.

A knock at the door startled Abraham, and he quickly stepped away, putting his arms behind his back as the Major turned back to look at him. His heart was pounding so loud he was almost certain Edmund could hear it. Now was the issue of who was at the door.

Hewlett noticed Abraham was closer than before, but didn't think much of it, figuring he had wanted to see the grille a bit closer. He tucked the grille and unfinished letter away, not wanting anyone to see it quite yet. No one but him and Abraham could know about it for now. He got up and walked over to the door, silently wondering who else was awake at this hour. 

Abraham inhaled deeply, not realizing he had been holding his breath until his lungs were screaming for air. Perhaps that was why his heart had been pounding so loud in his ears; besides the obvious tension in the room. What if he had stabbed the Major in that exact moment? All of his choices weighed on him heavily, tugging on his conscience and body. He watched the Major open the door, only to find it was Mary there. 

"Forgive me, but Thomas isn't well. I think he may have a fever." She says softly and briefly. Abraham noticed she didn't seem too concerned, and frankly he wondered if there was anything wrong at all. 

"What? He was fine this morning." He points out, trying to call her bluff. Well- It wasn't like he was busy anymore, but he could've been if he had a moment more to carry out the swing of the knife. 

"I may be wrong, will you please come and look?" She asks quickly, clearly trying to get Abraham away from Hewlett as soon as possible. Abraham gave a small "yeah" in confirmation, reluctant to do so, and upset with Mary for interrupting him. 

"It's quite alright. We're done here. I can finish up on my own." He glances between Mary and Abraham, giving them a reassuring smile. He had honestly hoped that Mary would get him out of his hair, Abraham standing behind him like that made him feel a little disquieted, and he tended to ramble on when he was nervous.

Abraham gave a soft "okay", and exited the room, sliding past Hewlett. 

Edmund watched them walk to their room for only a moment before retreating back into his own, sighing with relief as he was alone again. He wondered again why Abraham had gotten so close. Being over his shoulder like that... He shook his head, sitting back down at his desk and taking out the unfinished letter and grille. As he wrote, he suddenly remembered the way Abraham's face had looked in the moonlight. The odd silver light had an ominous quality to it, and yet it was beautiful in a macabre sort of way. The ghostly light was etherial and symbolic to him, his love of the stars perhaps influencing this view. Even so, with the beauty of his face in the moonlight, he seemed tense. Maybe it was his imagination. Or maybe Abraham had remembered his time in prison a bit too vividly.

He sighs, thinking silently about his placement of key words from the grille. It had to be perfect, otherwise it wouldn't work. He hoped his work wouldn't be in vain; his main worry being Simcoe or rebels intercepting it somehow. Perhaps he could convince someone to go with Eastin as a bodyguard. No... That wouldn't do either, that would only draw more attention to Eastin, perhaps signaling how important the information he carried was. He glanced out the window as he finished another draft, hoping for an epiphany or sign from the stars he adored so much. Perhaps their grace would inspire something within him. 

Or perhaps not, a yawn rising in his throat as he looked at the star light. He chuckles to himself with amusement at his drowsy reaction, sliding the grill over the letter to make sure everything was in place.

"Perfect." He mutters softly, tucking the letter away in a tube for Eastin to transport in the morning. He was done for the night, tucking everything away in it's rightful place, and blowing out the candle on his desk. The flame ceased its dance, only for the smoke to take it over, like a graceful ribbon as it rose from the wick. The moonlight barely illuminated it. Hewlett admired the elegant display for a moment before heading over to his bed, yawning once again as he took off his boots, redcoat, and wig. 

He slid into bed, closing his eyes as he huddled up under the covers. A long sigh escaped him, releasing the days tension.

***

After a hasty breakfast, and a few uneasy thoughts about rebels, Edmund was handing Corporal Eastin the tube containing the encrypted letter; meant for Major Andre. 

"Now, remember, travel safe." Edmund warns cautiously. He had to be certain this letter got to Major Andre. He would do as much as he could to serve the king, and keep the people he held dear, safe. Anna most importantly, and the people of Setauket.

"You know me sir- I take the safest and dullest route possible." He says assuringly. Eastin went on his way, and Hewlett couldn't help but cast a worried glance at him. Something was going to go wrong, he could feel it. Abraham had left before breakfast, likely to go get provisions or seed for his farm. At this point it wasn't really his place to guess. Everyone had their own lives to get to, and Abraham likely wanted to get back to his after the long stint in prison.

He couldn't say he blamed the man. He was desperately trying to forget his time in captivity as well. 

***

Abraham walked the whole way back to Whitehall. The sun had been down for hours now, the crickets chirping their night symphony. Shooting Eastin had gone smoothly, but retrieving the letter... Well- Robert Rogers had made sure to make that difficult. He would have to go back and retrieve the precious document later. For now, his worry was coming up with a somewhat cheerful attitude to feign innocence over what had conspired earlier that day. No one could know that he shot Eastin, or that Robert Rogers had turned up out of nowhere. So far his plan was turning out as a big fat mess. 

"Bastard Rogers..." He muttered under his breath bitterly, trying to relieve some of his frustration before walking into Whitehall. He noticed quickly that the candles were lit inside, burning steadily. He opened the door curtly and walked in, seeing his wife, Thomas, Anna, and Richard in the living room, seemingly waiting for him. Unfortunately his luck wouldn't allow for everyone to be asleep at this hour. They were probably worried about him. 

"Didn't miss supper did I?" He asks quickly, brushing off his sleeves in case he still had dust from the cellar on them, also feeling a bit fidgety. 

"And breakfast and lunch. Where were you?" Richard asks sharply. His father seemed bitter about his tardiness, and Abraham knew he suspected something more sinister of his absence. Still he had to keep up his facade.

"I was at the farm." He responds somewhat hesitantly, not exactly lying, as this had been truth. At least, for part of the day. The other parts had been spent killing Eastin, and almost being killed by Robert Rogers. But yes, he had been at the farm. "Yeah I'm sorry if I kept you all waiting." He announces from the dining room, hurriedly snatching up some ham from the table. He hadn't eaten all day, and the succulent smell of the meat had reminded him of the pang of hunger in his belly. He stuffed some in his mouth as Richard responded. 

"Mary said you went into town to get provisions." He says pointedly. Abraham's body turned to face Mary as soon as he realized a contradiction. Mary and him exchanged an understanding glance. Shit. Time to improvise, Abraham thought. What was he supposed to say now? Confirm this and tell a lie for why he was gone, or weave it in somehow? He walked back into the living room, still chewing the ham he had scarfed down. 

"Well, yeah. I did, yeah." He says hastily. "After town, I went to the farm." He was in such a rush he didn't bother to use proper grammar. "I have to buy seed if I'm to replant the cabbage. Hi." He says softly to Mary, leaning in and quickly giving her a little kiss on the cheek. She greeted him back, and looked down at Richard, wondering if the fib had worked to cover up what happened that day. Abe knew his wife could tell something was going on. 

"So you bought cabbage seed from DeJong?" Richard asks, trying to catch him in the lie. Abraham knew this trick, it had worked on him as a child, but he was skilled enough now to avoid it.

"Uh, no, the store was closed, so I have to go back tomorrow." He responds. However, making his answer sound like the truth was not his forte. He had to get out of this conversation fast, if only to avoid more trouble with his father; and the steel trap of a glare he was being held in. He looks to Mary for an escape. "I think I'm ready for bed." He says quickly, trying to get them away from Richard, and the confrontation that would surely come with staying in his presence much longer. 

"It's time for Thomas as well." Mary confirms, looking over at Richard. Abraham gave a soft "yeah" in confirmation, stepping back and waiting for his wife to start leading Thomas toward the stairs.

"Goodnight father." He says curtly to Richard, and looks down at his son. "Come on." He encourages, hoping his son would understand it was time to move with haste. He smiles as Thomas took Mary's hand and started to walk with her, lovingly running his hand over his son's head. Finally he walked over to Anna, who hadn't said a word the entire time, likely not wanting to get involved. "Anna." He addressed her quietly, taking the candle she had been holding to light their way up the stairs. He moved on with single-minded determination: get to bed.

"Rest well." Anna said flatly. Abraham could feel her gaze on his back as he hurriedly headed for the stairs. Just as he entered the entryway, Richard called after him.

"Abe." He says firmly. Abraham could hear his footsteps behind him, and didn't give a second thought to his bitter response.

"Father." He retorted. 

"Abraham." Richard called again. Abraham sighs, realizing this was more serious now. But what could they possibly have to say to one another after an interaction like that? He stopped in front of the stairs, watching his son struggle a little with the steps. 

"Up you go..." He encourages quietly, not daring to face his father. If he could avoid responding, that's what he would do.

"Have you seen my pistol?" He asks, persistent in getting a response out of his weasel of a son. Abraham cursed in his head, remembering that Rogers had taken his father's pistol. Of course, he had taken it first...

"Your pistol?" He had to think for a moment, quickly coming up with an answer. Unknowingly, it had been the same response his wife had used earlier. "I would check with Aberdeen." He says, hiding a smile by tucking his lips in. He didn't give his father the chance to respond, quickly heading up the stairs after Mary. Thoughts ran through his head as he followed her. 

He had to move Eastin's body, get a sample of Andre's handwriting, get the grille to write an encrypted response letter, and at the same time, he had to keep Robert Rogers a secret from everyone, including his wife. She wouldn't be easy to fool, but he would have to find a way somehow. He had to.

All of this, and keep his secret identity away from Major Hewlett. A man who was only just across the hall. 

***

Edmund sat at the table with the Woodhull's, ham, eggs, biscuits, and sliced apples. It wasn't a very modest breakfast, and here Hewlett had almost grown tired of eating so much pork. Well- Almost. He couldn't deny the food was always delicious. Richard had told him the night before that Abraham had been planning on going back to his farm. No one had said a word for the entire meal, and now he was growing weary of the silence.

"Abraham, your father made mention that you will be departing Whitehall and returning to your farm." His words were slow and drowsy. He hadn't slept much the night before, the worry of Eastin returning was bothering him. What if something had happened to him?

"Yes sir, I believe I've relied on the hospitality of my father long enough." Abraham responded. Hewlett couldn't help but notice an aura of tension between the father and son.

"Hmm." Richard grunted quietly. The Major had to wonder what was going on between them. Oh well, he was sure Richard would tell him later. He lost time as he wandered into his thoughts, tuned out of the conversation as soon as it began. A grim series of events played out in his mind as he pictured possible scenarios of poor Corporal Eastin being killed. Richard's voice however, brought him back to the present as soon as he recognized a quote from Shakespeare; the play of Julius Caesar.

"Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arm, quite vanquished him, then burst his mighty heart." Hewlett studied Richard's face, getting the impression that he was being told something in code that only they could truly understand. How was Abraham betraying him? Ah... He had likely missed the context he needed to piece it together. Oh well, he would ask about it later. His slight smile turned to one of deep thought. This would be a long day, he knew it already.

***

Hewlett stood in Richard's office, mulling over a book; specifically the play Richard had been referencing earlier: Julius Caesar. He had to understand why he had quoted that particular line. Yet still he didn't understand... Why did Richard feel betrayed? It made no sense. It seemed like he would have to ask him about it after all. Anna was playing the harpsichord in the living room, the song white noise as he had heard it over and over for about half an hour now. He thought she was getting better though. He couldn't help but reminisce on the last time he had heard her play, just before he was taken captive. Well- perhaps it was best not to dwell on that. 

He looked up from his book as he heard Mary enter the room. She didn't bother to greet him, jumping straight to the point.

"Anna wants to speak with you." Mary says quietly. Edmund was surprised that she was telling him this, and now he was curious why she had come forward instead of Anna herself. Perhaps Anna had been nervous about confronting him.

"She does?" He asks, closing his book and holding it close to his chest, almost protectively. Mary responded quickly, as if Anna had told her to relay this message to him.

"Something of a private and personal matter... but she isn't sure if she wants to speak with you about it." She says softly, giving him a sweet smile. Edmund hums, finding this rather peculiar, but who was he to ask questions about how women did things? If this was the only way Anna would be able to get something off her mind, then so be it. He would be ready and eager to listen.

"Thank you Mary." He says with a quick nod, holding his book a little tighter now as he wondered what Anna could possibly want to discuss. It could be anything, but I hope it's in regards to us; he thought, admittedly helpless and in love. He turned toward the hallway, walking forward slowly. He couldn't help but notice the slight pain in his right foot; trying to keep the weight off his missing toes. As he stepped into the archway for the living room, Anna's playing stopped with a flat note. With a smile, he couldn't help but praise her for the playing he had heard before that.

"You're improving." He compliments, hoping this didn't come off as sarcastic. Anna looked up at him with a touch of surprise, sighing softly as she thought back to her slow pace and the flat note.

"Not really." She says, somewhat dejectedly. Hewlett's smile morphed as he realized she may have taken offense, and he quickly tried to recover from the slightly awkward moment. Quick, change the subject! He screamed at himself in his head.

"Mary said that you wanted to speak to me." He reveals, holding his book in slightly nervous hands. Anna seemed almost skeptical as she glanced at Mary, but Hewlett didn't really notice.

"Did she?" Anna questions, looking back at Hewlett as he responded.

"Yes." He says sweetly, his voice gentle and soft as he held his book delicately. "Something of a private personal matter that you were debating whether or not to come forward with." He wondered again what Anna could possibly have to tell him, watching her expression shift from what seemed like confusion, to sorrowful realization. 

"Yes." She admits, meeting his gaze as bravely as she could. There was a long pause, Anna trying to think of what to say. Hewlett waited patiently of course, knowing it must be rather important if it took this much courage to talk about. Could it have been about earlier, at breakfast? Something he had missed? 

"Um... Yes, I- There was something I wish to speak with you about." She says after a bit of hesitation, rising from the bench she had been seated in. She walked over toward the striped maroon couch, and Hewlett followed her at a respectable distance, not wanting to breach her personal space too much.

"I was thinking, and I wonder if it may not be better for all, if I moved back into Strong Manor." She takes a seat on the couch, leaving room for Hewlett to have a seat if he so wished. Hewlett looked at her pensively, wondering why she would think that better for everyone, as it most certainly was not... 

"When Abraham spoke on intruding his father's hospitality, I was forced to examine my own imposition." She explains her reasoning. The Major's eyes scanned the room idly for a moment as he thought about what she said, his gaze meeting hers as he realized the implications of this decision. This would mean he saw her less, if at all, and this darling woman whom he adored, would be away from him. She shined as brightly as the stars he admired so ardently. Her moving away would upset the balance of his entire world. 

"I see..." He says softly, looking back down at the floor for a moment. He couldn't just let this happen. She was too important to give up so easily. "Well, that might be a problem." He says with a soft sigh. Anna gave him a puzzled expression.

"Well, I don't seek to reclaim ownership, of course. Just residence." She explains. Hewlett didn't care about her having ownership of the Manor, in all honesty, It was simply a matter of formality and law that it had been taken away from her in the first place. Not her fault.

"Anna... I mean a problem for me." He clarifies, gesturing to himself. He started walking over to her, Anna seeming increasingly puzzled and intrigued by what he had to declare. "When you say it would be better for all, I can't help but think you're referring to the magistrate." His expression was pained as he said this, feeling the sorrow in his heart if she actually did leave Whitehall. He couldn't lose her now, not after everything he had gone through. He took a seat on the other end of the couch, facing her directly. He had to tell her how he felt. This was the right time.

"For you, leaving Whitehall could not be seen as anything else than a very dark day, for the man who now sits before you." He says somberly, his voice poetic and soft. Even just saying this out loud, his heart wanted to break at the thought of not being with her, protecting her. He watched Anna's expression shift.

"A year ago, I would not have been able to say these things without tripping over my tongue." He admits, taking a deep breath as everything that had happened washed over him, flooding his conscience with memories. "But I'm not the same man as I was." He says, finding clarity in this moment. He saw how far he had come from the bookish, inexperienced Major who had never known a battle worse that a bar fight at the tavern.

"I've been changed. By this place, by what I've seen..." Everything came back to him now. Even Simcoe's face as he prepared to strike with his bayonet. 

"What I have survived." He adds, his gaze looking down at his hands. He remembered the savageness he had displayed in retaliation to Simcoe's ambush: The romanesque position of a snarling warrior poised to strike down a knavish beast.

Still, beyond the bitter cold nights, and the bloody battle he couldn't seem to rid from his mind, the thoughts of Anna came rushing back. The way he had seen her in the sky, eyes bright... Her own constellation amongst others of grandeur. The stories he would tell her, pretending she was by his side. She was the only reason he had held on so long. 

"And by the people I've met." He finishes, reaching forward and taking her hand into his own lovingly. He caressed the top of her hand with his thumb delicately, as if assuring her he was there. Anna's face was colored only by inward shock and pensiveness. 

"My dear Anna, ever since I've had the opportunity of knowing you, I've been in love with you." He admits, feeling a weight lifted from his chest. There was nothing he couldn't admit now. She knew. 

"And I have no doubts that you perceive my passions to be sincere. If you allow me to be your protector through life, I swear that I will commit myself to your happiness and I pray that you know that I make my intentions clear, and from the deepest and strictest motives of respect." He finished his speech, allowing Anna time to respond and think over what he had said. He watched her expression shift between many different emotions, before she managed a response.

"Thank you... um..." He could see her eyes were watery with tears, and he knew she was flattered, yet confused. "I beg your pardon." She quickly got up and left the room, likely to compose herself. 

Hewlett sat there, thinking about what he said. Had this truly been the right time to talk with her about this? He got up, wondering if he should follow her into the room she had fled to. No, she needs time to think, he reasons. He would just have to wait for her response. Still, he had to worry about her possibly rejecting him and calling him a fool. The worry was faint, but still present. He sighs, walking back toward the stairs with his book in hand. Hopefully he hadn't blew his chance. He climbed the steps, stopping in front of his room and unlocking the door with his personal key, heading in. 

Immediately Edmund took a seat on his bed, laying back on it with a sigh. Maybe this was a mistake...

***

Abraham had just gotten back helping Rogers dig up Corporal Eastin and retrieving the encrypted letter from the dispatch tube. It was nasty business, and frankly he smelled like death. He could only hope that Hewlett wouldn't know it was the smell of his dead courier. He walked into Whitehall without knocking, a man on a mission, to get his father's pistol back in it's rightful place, and a copy of the grille pattern to decipher the letter; then write one of his own.

"Mary!" He called loudly for his wife, wondering where she was so he could get in and out as swift as possible. He could hear men chattering in another room as he closed the door, walking over toward the living room when he spotted Hewlett and a couple other officers in his father's office. "Oh, gentlemen." He greets quietly. 

Hewlett looked at Abraham with shock, the wave of stench washing over him. 

"Good God man- you- you smell a fright." He wanted to shudder at the gut wrenching odor, his eyes watering. God damnit, he could taste it! 

"It's farm work." Abraham quickly gives the excuse. Hewlett lets out a huff; as if to rid the smell from his nose; stifling a gag. 

"Abe." Mary calls to him from the stairs, walking down to meet him. Abraham turned to face her, surprised that she had been upstairs, likely tending to Thomas.

"Oh, there you are. I've been seeding all morning and I'm dead starving, so..." He mutters softly, trying to keep the conversation going so the Major would suspect nothing while they exchanged what they needed.

"It's because you forgot vittles again. Come here." She leads him to the dining room as somewhere more private. The Major and other officers wandered to another room, likely to try and escape the smell of Abraham. "You forget your stomach it'll be the death of you. Take some fruit." She continues, stopping in front of a table with a basket of apples on it. Abraham peeked over Mary’s shoulder, seeing the Major walking through the hall. 

"Well, actually, maybe I should take dinner whilst I'm here 'cause I might not be back until late." He says, swiftly moving her over to a part of the room where they were more concealed. He quickly motioned for her to hand him the grille copy, and she swiftly did so. They handed it off like they had done this a thousand times.

"Dinner's not ready yet, but there's pork outside in the smokehouse." She says, watching Abe fish out Richard's pistol from his pants.

"That sounds good, yeah. I'll uh- I'll take a look." He quickly holds out the pistol, wondering how she was going to hide it. Without skipping a beat, Mary started pulling up her dress to squeeze the gun between her thighs. "I've only a few more rows left to plant, so I shouldn't be much longer." He pulls up as she pulls her dress back down, concealing the weapon between her legs. He plants a kiss on her cheek, as if to say: Good job! "All right? You uh... kiss that boy for me." He adds after a long pause, trying to keep the interaction as brief and yet sincere as possible to make it seem like nothing was wrong.

"Major." He greets Hewlett, quickly rushing out.

Hewlett looked up from the map of Fort William-Henry, watching Abraham pass. He had been holding his breath for a moment now, doing his best to avoid the rank smell Abraham was producing. Even trying to tune out the reek of that man with thinking about military strategies... Well- it did absolutely nothing. The fort had been abandoned for years now, ever since the 7 years war, [The French and Indian War] and frankly the only purpose the fort served now was as an example...

As Abraham left, he looked to Mary as she stepped into the hall, letting out a breath.

"Mary... I feel as if we should open some windows." He says, feeling somewhat bad for the poor woman. He had heard the kiss from the hallway and couldn't imagine being that close to the smell. He covered his nose with a handkerchief, still desperately trying to avoid the stench that hung in the air. Damnit, how long was it going to be until that blasted smell was gone?!

***

Major Hewlett had received the encrypted letter from his men; who had discovered Eastin's body. He knew the moment he saw the the dispatch tube that the Corporal was dead. He should have made Eastin go with a few extra bodyguards, then perhaps he would have survived. The only explanation could be Simcoe" even with his Rangers deployed, this man had found a way to torment him. Murdering bastard...

Even with Eastin dead, he had to move on and read the letter; which had been sitting in the case for hours now. He had been stalling with reading it, and it had grown dark outside. Darker than his thoughts of ridding Simcoe from these cursed colonies. The Captain was a raging monster that couldn't be slain by any typical sword. He would have to either tolerate his wretched existence, or find another more cunning way to vanquish him. The way escaped him.

Finally he picked up the dispatch tube, pulling the lid off and fishing the letter out. He flinched as he realized the dreaded smell of death wafted from the tube, making him cover his nose and try to shoo the infected air away from him. He broke the wax seal, thankful at least that Simcoe's men hadn't read the letter Eastin carried. He sniffled, pressing the letter flat on the table and skimming through it. It seemed to contain nothing of importance. Slave or farmer, rebel or loyalist, trying times, chastisement of old Setauket... All of it seemed to blend together into a condescending and boring letter.

"Whatever may occur, we must stop and think of the consequences..." He rolls his eyes, unlocking the right desk drawer and pulling out the Cardan Grille he had to use. He carefully laid the sheet of metal over the letter, making sure it was lined up correctly. He took out his magnifying glass, peering through it at the words revealed by the grill. His jaw clenched; his stomach dropped; the hair on the back of his neck rose with a ghostly chill as he saw the message, plain as day in Andre's pretty handwriting.

"Farmer not needed"

The words almost mocked him, now the condescending tone of the letter made sense. Simcoe must have spoiled Andre's trust in him; there couldn't have been any other explanation. This was the last straw; Simcoe would pay somehow, and he would get back at Andre for ignoring him. Someday, he would. He stared at the words on the page still, glaring at them bitterly for their very existence. He wished he could give Simcoe a piece of his mind, or Andre at the very least. He had too many biting comments to say that would likely never be spoken. Crickets chirped in the silence of the moment, but Hewlett didn't notice through the noisy bustle of thoughts in his head. He had lost time staring at those three words on the page.

A knock made him snap back to the present, his gaze fixing on the door with an impatient glare. With a scowl he looked at the painting above his desk, trying to find a calm place within himself to retreat to.

"I asked not to be disturbed..." He says sharply, swallowing the lump in his throat that had been building from unreleased emotion. 

"I'm afraid I must." Richard's voice was a more welcome one, but Hewlett still wasn't happy about the intrusion. He set down the magnifying glass as he got up, putting the grill away quickly before unlocking and opening the door to allow his dear friend inside. 

"Oh, Richard..." He mutters softly, wondering what he could possibly want at this hour. He was tired, frustrated, and in the mood for a glass of Madeira. He headed back to his seat, lifting his coat-tails so he could sit without the discomfort of bunched up fabric. Richard used this time to let himself in and close the door behind him. Edmund stayed seated, staring blankly at nothing in front of him until Richard finally spoke up, allowing his gaze to drift to him.

"I heard about Corporal Eastin." Richard says somewhat somberly, giving the Major a worried glance. Edmund clenched his jaw again at the reminder, taking a deep breath before voicing his concern.

"I don't know how he's done it with his Rangers deployed, but Simcoe has somehow managed to strike a double blow against me..." He says vaguely, not wanting to remind himself of the dreadful realization, his tone cross and pointed. "I suppose it is the perfect alibi." He adds quietly. Truly it was: perhaps Simcoe had been there while the intelligence Major wrote the letter, influencing Andre like the devilish snake he was.

"What do you mean?" Richard asks flatly, confused. Hewlett's tone grew darker and more upset as he had to explain.

"Not only has he killed another one of my men, but now he has apparently poisoned Major Andre's trust with me." He says pointedly. The Captain had poisoned Andre with the venom in his black heart. He lifted the letter in example. "His letter from New York indicates that he is not interested in hearing what intelligence Abraham has gathered about the Sons of Liberty." His voice had grown more hushed, as if trying to keep himself from yelling in frustration. He set the letter down, staring at the wall again. 

"Perhaps its for the best that you don't send Abraham to New York anymore." Richard says in a somewhat dejected tone. Hewlett looked up at his friend with curiosity and confusion. Was there something dangerous in New York he didn't know about?

"What are you talking about?" This was almost an order from Edmund, in need of clarification immediately. He was not in a patient mood.

"I'm- I'm talking about my son." Richard began, seeming regretful. Edmund gave him his full attention now, wondering what was going on. "I've come here... after much deliberation... to inform you- that- he is a criminal... A traitor against the Crown," Edmund blinked in shock, suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. It weighed on him like a heavy, rain soaked coat. Everything that had been happening as of late dawned on him all at once. The coming and going, the vow to the king, the rushed disappearances and late reappearances... 

"And that he is, and has been for some time..." Richard hesitated, his voice seeming to die in his throat. Finally he came out with it, a look of defeat and acceptance on his face. "A spy, for the continental army." He admits.

Hewlett felt the telltale rush of adrenaline come to his chest as fear and anger rose to the surface. He stared at the wall, realizations flooding into his head. Had that been the meaning of the quote from Julius Caesar the other day? Was that what he had been trying to tell him? That this man whom he had trusted to work for the king, was actually a traitor all along, gathering intelligence for the enemy? 

He remembered Abraham's face in the pale moonlight once again. How tense he seemed. How close Abe had been to his back. Nothing that Abraham had told him was true, he knew this. The struggle in prison... None of it had been for good. 

He let out a scoff, raising his hand to his forehead and wiping the glow of sweat off his brow. Stress was eating at him more now. This was too much. Simcoe, Andre, Intelligence, Eastin, Spies... All of it was swirling like a raging torrent in the usually calm sea of Edmund's mind. The flames of the candles danced, light wavering over the words on the page in front of him... 

Farmer not needed.

Not needed for help. 

He needed to be taken down.

"We'll confront him tomorrow." Hewlett promises, looking up at the Magistrate with determination. This business was going to end. 

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow he would extinguish the rebellious flame in the town of Setauket.


	2. A Common Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flame of rebellion blazes brighter as tension between the Regulars and Rangers climbs higher. An agreement will have to be made in order to vanquish a common enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UhG I loved writing all the tense scenes. <3 I hope you guys enjoy reading them too! Get ready for the fun to start in the next chapter!

Abraham rushed down the steps, making sure the bottom button of his vest was fastened, as he started to head to the dining room for some fruit to grab for breakfast. He had been planning to get back to his farm for real this time, not to plant; as it was too early for cabbage, he had found this out from Rogers.

"Abraham." Hewlett's voice called out firmly, making Abe turn toward the living room, pausing to look at the Major, surprised to see his father as well.

"Morning." He responded without thinking, suddenly realizing something was up. Both the Magistrate and the Major wore stern expressions; Hewlett standing in the light while Richard stayed in the shadows near the back of the room. Abe put his hands on his hips idly, wondering what was going on.

"Have a seat Abraham." Hewlett said flatly, gesturing to the striped maroon couch with his hand. His other hand was draped over the back of the armchair he stood by. A rather elegant pose, but this was no time for modeling. Now was the time for a serious talk about Abraham's dealings the enemy. 

Abraham had a feeling something was wrong, but he truly had no idea just how much trouble he was in. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

"Yeah..." Abe muttered softly, running his hand over his head nervously as he walked into the living room slowly. His gaze caught the reflection of light from the pistol laying on the coffee table by Hewlett's side. "We expecting trouble?" Abraham asks curtly as he gestured to the gun, hoping that trouble wasn't Simcoe. The last thing he needed was to have that wretched man throw his card into this game as well. Then Rogers wouldn't have anywhere to hide. He stopped in front of the couch, facing Hewlett and Richard with a bit of anxiousness. He knew Hewlett's answer wouldn't be pleasant, whatever it was.

"One can't be too careful when dealing with spies." Hewlett spat the last word as if it was bitter on his tongue. He could hardly bear to look at Abraham, much less face him. "Now sit." He ordered firmly, obviously angry and uptight. He only glanced at Abraham for a moment, staring off at the rest of the room rather than meeting the spies gaze. He didn't want to become ensnared in the weasel's eyes. He couldn't allow it.

Abraham swallowed, looking between his father and the Major nervously. Still, he tried to conceal his worry. The ticking clock made the passing seconds known to him. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock... He finally took a seat, his hands on his hips shifting down to his knees as he braced them to sit. He looked up at the two authority figures in the room expectantly, waiting for one of them to continue. His heart was pounding in his ears again, everything telling him to run. But he couldn't be sure what the Major was talking about. Still, he clung onto the hope that they weren't speaking of him.

"Your father has told me everything..." Hewlett began, his voice low and stern. Edmund thought back to what Richard had said the night before. He couldn't help but be angry with Richard as well for keeping this from him. What if not knowing that information had gotten someone killed? It likely had...

Abraham decided to try and play dumb, fiddling with his hands nervously as he tried to think of something to say to keep himself innocent.

"What do you mean?" He asks, keeping his hands clasped tightly together as he looked up at them with large doe-ish eyes. 

"Don't even pretend to deny it!" Hewlett growled, his voice low and gruff with anger. How dare this man use me to further his own spying in New York?! He was furious, his jaw clenched and his ears burning with heat. Richard butted in, adding to what Hewlett said.

"It's over." Richard said firmly, glowering down at his son. 

The realization slowly sank into Abraham; that Richard had told Major Hewlett about his dealings with the enemy. It was over... Was it over? There has to be some way out of this! His mind raced as he looked down at the floor. If he didn't think of something soon, he was surely headed for the noose. Abe wasn't going to rat anyone out. Not today, not ever. The birds chirping outside seemed to mock him.

"I want the names of your co-conspirators in this town, and your contact in the continental army." Hewlett demands, frustrated and through with games. This would end today. He watched Abraham contemplate his choices, wondering what ran through the spies mind in this very moment. Was he afraid?

Abraham looked up at his father, only to find he was glaring back at him solemnly. He scoffs, feeling bitterness rising in his chest; contempt for this man that could only simmer and grow hotter.

"You know that you are nothing but a coward." He hissed, his lip curled in a venomous sneer, one that made Hewlett uneasy and fidgety. Richard quickly retorted his son.

"I gave you warning after warning. You only have yourself to blame for forcing my hand." Richard scolded. Abraham turned his head down, looking away from his father. He didn't want to hear it. How could his father do this to him? What exactly did he think was going to happen now? What- that he was going to give up the names of his friends? That he wasn't about to swing from a noose in front of him? What could Richard possibly have to gain from this? Nothing. That was the answer. He was just afraid of the consequences if he said nothing. 

"Thomas!" Mary called out suddenly, making Abraham turn his head to see his son walking into the room, Mary doting after him. He quickly rose from the couch, heading over to his son quickly. 

"Hey Thomas, it's alright." He tried to reassure his son. Everything was happening so fast, he wasn't sure how much longer he would even be able to see his son before his time came. Unfortunately he wouldn't have the time to comfort him.

Hewlett felt the burning fire within him start to blaze as he watched Abraham rise from his place. He wasn't going to allow this traitor to leave, not if he had any say in it! He snatched up his pistol aggressively, immediately pointing it at Abraham.

"Sit down!" He roared dangerously, advancing on Abraham with malicious intent. He was going to make Abe stay here. He wasn't about to let this spy infect his beloved town, nor his reputation. He barely heard Richard pleading from the blood rushing in his ears, and the loud click from cocking the gun.

Everything was spinning around Abe, chaos as Hewlett had the gun pointed at his face, and Mary protected Thomas instinctively. His first concern was his son.

"Oh, so you're going to shoot me in front of my son?" He asks, staring into Hewlett's eyes as if to ask him if this was just. Mary screamed "No!', pulling Thomas close. He watched the Major's expression turn more intense.

"I mean to see you hanged." He says coldly, keeping the pistol directed at Abe's face. He barely noticed Richard by his side, unsure if he should stop Hewlett or back away.

Abraham took a deep breath, realizing that Hewlett really did want him dead. Perhaps he had no intention of showing him forgiveness if he gave up names. Of course, the thought of doing so never crossed his mind. All of this was about more than him. His son, his wife, his friends, the cause... Creating a new country for his son to thrive and grow up in. Not some colony controlled by a greedy king.

He took a step closer to Hewlett, putting his arms out to show he wasn't going to try anything stupid. One wrong move and Hewlett could pull the trigger. No... Hewlett didn't have the stones. He wouldn't fire because he had never had the guts to do so. He wouldn't kill for the king. Not like this.

"Yeah you're right. I'll hang." He took a few shaky breaths. Just because he knew Edmund wouldn't kill him with a bullet, didn't mean he wasn't nervous. His heart was beating fast and loud like an army drum. Again he was certain that Edmund could hear his heart pounding. He quickly thought of the perfect rebuttal, to make Hewlett think twice. It was twisted, and snake-like, but if it was the only way he could come away from this, he would have no trouble blackmailing the Major. "But what will happen to you, hm?" He asks quietly.

Hewlett tried not to let his expression falter, keeping his gun fixed on Abraham. His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about what he said. What was he getting at now?

"You'll be- stripped of your command." He says quickly, trying to phrase his words carefully so they would be clear and concise. No mistake could be made with what he meant.

"My command?" Hewlett questioned, his grip adjusting on the pistol. His arm was starting to grow tired from holding it like this. 

"Yeah well think about it. Who provided the papers that got me into New York? Whose letter got me out of jail when I was arrested for being a spy?" He threatens, his tone sharp and his mind clear. He was growing braver now that he could see Hewlett's expression wavering. 

Panic began to set in Hewlett's mind. He was right. Everything he had done with the intention of the crown in mind... Using Abe as an agent in New York, freeing him from prison after the charges against him... If he hung Abe as a spy, and everything he had done had been exposed, there would be no escape from the prosecution that followed. He had no defense. Richard's words fell on deaf ears as the two adversaries quarreled fiercely. 

"I wonder what your superiors in New York would have to say about that. You never know, you might be hanging with me." Abe said boldly, no fear was in his eyes anymore, even as he threatened the Major. His eyes pierced through Edmund like daggers, rooting him in place and making his expression twist with discomfort. 

Edmund's heart was pounding faster than Abe's now. Andre's poisoned trust with him would surely be his end. His knife would be the final one in his back. Betrayed by his own people, by his own country. Like Caesar, the thought flew by as he adjusted his grip on his pistol again. 

"At any rate, you'll be shown to be the fool that you really are." Abraham spat, leaving his final words to fester in the Major's brain. Richard spoke up again.

"You can't blackmail your way out of this!" Richard growled in response. Hewlett swallowed. Abraham could, and he had. He couldn't fire on him like this, and he couldn't hang him. But then again, perhaps the blackmail was an incentive to shoot.

"Say goodbye to your grandson, you won't be seeing him again." Abraham said bitterly, pointing at Richard accusingly. Richard had brought this on himself, in Abe's mind. Richard had decided to rat him out, and now he was going to be punished the way he saw fit. Richard and Hewlett yelled as Abraham scooped Thomas up, carrying him toward the door.

"Stop!" Hewlett cried, quickly following Abraham.

"Not the boy!" Richard begged. Anna cried out to him, but Hewlett was done with the games and running, he had to stop Abraham from getting away!

"Step aside!" Hewlett yelled at Mary furiously, his gun pointing up for a moment so he wouldn't accidentally shoot her. He wasn't about to shoot an innocent woman.

"If you shoot my husband you'll have to shoot me too!" Mary hissed, putting her hand up as she stood between Abraham and Hewlett, protecting her husband and son. Thomas was crying from all the noise and distressed faces, wailing in his father's arms. Abraham saw what was happening, calling out to his wife.

"Mary get out of the way!" He urged her. The last thing he wanted was for his wife to get shot. 

Hewlett's gaze was fixed only on Abraham, fury in his eyes as he held the pistol.

"I will not let him walk free." He vowed, his lip curled in an angry snarl. Mary piped up again, determined to convince Hewlett not to shoot.

"He will not leave. He won't leave as long as you have me." She insisted. Hewlett's mind was a jumbled mess, what on earth was she talking about now?!

"Have you?!" His voice was low and gruff, confusion coloring his tone. Mary swallowed, still keeping her hand up, as if it would protect her from the Major's fury.

"As your hostage." She explains. Everything was growing more chaotic and confusing by the moment. One second, he had everything under control, and now Abraham was reeling to try and gain it back again. He was certain if he left now, nothing would happen, but his family had to make everything complicated!

"Mary!" He exclaimed, not wanting Mary to get involved in the mess he had created. He shouldn't have dragged her into any of this in the first place, but she saw it as her duty to help him. 

Anna caught the glance that Mary shot to her, realizing she needed to calm Edmund down, or Abraham might not come out of this alive.

"Edmund, don't do this, please..." She pleaded with the Major, carefully approaching him like a startled horse, slowly with her hands up. "Not like this, not with the child." She begged. 

Hewlett looked over at his beloved Anna, the flame of fury in his heart growing weaker from Anna's pleading. Going through with firing his shot... if he did that, all the respect Anna might have for him would be gone within an instant. He couldn't do this, shifting his grip on his pistol again. He could barely hear Mary yelling for Abraham to go as he thought about the repercussions with Anna. He would have to throw away his shot. This was an impasse now. He couldn't fire at Abe, and he couldn't have him hanged. This blackmail was the darkest shade of ichor. It wounded him, crippled him. 

Hewlett felt Anna's hand on his right arm, trying to gently tug his hand down. Her gaze was worried and kind. Hewlett couldn't hurt anyone like this... Perhaps reserving his fire could be seen as a different kind of strength.

"But leave Thomas here, please, for his own good." Richard insisted. Abraham stared at his father bitterly. Well now he was going to do the opposite. Leaving Thomas here wouldn't be for his own good. It would be for Richard's good. Abraham wasn't about to leave his son in the hands of a coward and a snitch. He scooped Thomas up again, quickly fleeing Whitehall.

Edmund watched the opportunity of catching a spy slip through his fingers as the door was shut, Mary sinking to floor as she wept. He lowered his arm, almost ready to drop the gun. His only consolation was Anna's apparent gratitude. She laid her hand on his shoulder and pressed her forehead to his chest, the tension of the moment drawing to a close; replaced with sorrow. 

He felt defeated as he looked down at Anna, gently resting his hand on her back. He wanted to be here for her, and yet he felt like he had caused this sorrow within her as well... This was his fault, wasn't it? Sending Abraham to New York, freeing him from prison. He reminded himself of his transgressions against the king, guilt and worry tugging him down.

"This is my fault." Hewlett muttered softly, remembering Abraham's face in the moonlight. That look of hatred... If only he had been present so he could have been freed sooner, maybe things would have gone differently. This business was dirty, and low. Lower than a serpents belly. He closed his eyes, trying to keep tears from forming in his eyes. He felt trapped. He tensed as Anna squeezed his shoulder, her deep brown eyes looking into his as he opened his. He could feel his animosity toward Abraham fade away as he gazed upon her. He had her friendship, and that was enough for him. 

"This isn't your fault Major..." She says softly, letting her hand drift to his chest as she assured him. He let out a deep sigh, his brow still furrowed with worry. 

"I don't know what to do..." He admits solemnly, looking down at the floor. Anna sighs, glancing down at Mary, who was still weeping softly.

"You'll figure it out..." She promises, nodding to him. Hewlett could feel his body relaxing from her ministrations, and he nods back. Alright... I just need to figure this out.

***

Abraham carried Thomas on his back the whole way to his farm. The birds chirping at each other didn't seem to realize that he wasn't in the mood to hear them singing. This mess with Richard revealing him to be a spy... Obviously he couldn't trust him fully, not again. He was blown away by the fact that his own father had ratted him out when he had nothing to gain. He sighs as he trudged across his dry and barren fields, walking up to Luke and Jeremiah's cabin. It was the only structure still standing on the property, and it would have to do. He set Thomas down as they got to the door, taking his hand as he opened the door.

The tiny cabin was just barely big enough for two people; in shambles since it hadn't been used or cleaned for a long time. Cobwebs were everywhere, straw littered the floor, and there were spices still hanging from a string above their heads. Abraham looked at the mess with a bit of disheartened frustration. Still, he had to keep a happy face for his son. 

"Well, it's not that bad, really." He says softly, taking his hand away and reassuringly patting Thomas on the head. The wind whistled through the drafty cabin. "Just needs a little uh... A little sprucing up I think." He says optimistically, starting to gather up the "mattress", which wasn't much more than a bag filled with straw. "This is gonna be your bed." He says softly, laying the bag of straw down and fluffing it. Thomas didn't seem too upset, but rather hungry.

"Want milk." He muttered rather cutely. Abraham looked down at his beloved son, realizing that Thomas probably hadn't eaten yet today, and neither had he. He had a broom in his hand, as he had planned to sweep up a bit.

"Oh, you're hungry huh?" He reassuringly put his hand on his son's head again, thoughts racing on how he would get Thomas some food. Right now he was the top priority. It was more pleasant to think about his needs than his own problems at the moment anyway. "All right, Well uh- maybe we can go into town afterwards and find you something there." His voice strained as he flipped over a small table, putting it in its rightful place.

The sound of boots and the butt of a rifle on wood startled Abraham, making him look up the doorway before Rogers even had the chance to say anything.

"Did I hear someone say they're hungry?" Rogers asks with a witty and playful smirk. Abraham's jaw clenched as Rogers simply asserted himself in the cabin. Great... Parental instincts kicked in as Rogers bent down to talk to Thomas, his voice growing more sprightly. "And would this be Thomas? The brave young man I've heard all about?" Abraham quickly swooped in to take Thomas away from the burly man as he dared to move closer.

"Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. Don't touch him." He held Thomas close, and carried him over to the makeshift bed, setting him down carefully. He gently patted his head again, making sure he was okay. Rogers sighs.

"That's a fine way to talk to a man who comes bearing gifts..." He says softly, seeming a bit dejected. Abraham, could hear the crinkle of paper behind him. "How about a freshly baked apple tart?" Rogers offers. Abraham turned around quickly to catch the larger man leaning over to offer the baked treat. Abraham quickly snatched up the morsel, protective as always. And rightfully so... This man had almost tried to kill him, and had threatened him more than once about doing so.

"Don't feed him either..." Abe says with a snippy tone, looking over the tart to make sure it wasn't tampered with or going bad. He looked up at Rogers cautiously.

"Fine father you are, starving your only child." He says, holding his arm out as he turned, still poised from when he had offered the food. Abraham couldn't say that what Rogers said didn't get under skin, because it did. He broke the apple tart in two uneven pieces, giving his son the larger portion. 

"Go play outside, go on... Up." He encourages quietly, trying not to let his frustration with Rogers enter his voice as he talked to Thomas, carefully helping him to his feet so he could head out on his own. Rogers couldn't resist butting in again.

"Hard to see past your stomach when you're your age, young lad." He advises, not that it would make any margin of sense to him now. Abraham made sure his son was alright before walking back inside, glancing down at the sack that Rogers had set on the table, full of various food items and objects. He wondered where the hell he got it from.

"Who'd you rob?" Abe asks accusingly, still focused on tidying the place up. Rogers looked at him, thinking up an excuse.

"A little foraging expedition. I foraged this from the Dutch boy's privy." He explains. Abraham figured he meant DeJong, but at this point he wasn't sure. Abe looked over at Rogers, pausing his sweeping to see him holding a newspaper. "Normally it isn't even fit to wipe your arse with..." Rogers held up the paper, showing him the item at the top of the page. "except for this little item on the top of the page. Why don't you take a look at that?" Abraham sighs as he was forced to stop dusting to take a look. There, plain as day in printed text: French Raspberry Brandy.

"That's your code word isn't it? Means your man in New York's got some intelligence heading your way." Rogers was so close he could feel his breath on his face, and he wanted to recoil. "You forget that I read every single letter in your lair, so now you're to ride for Oyster bay, and to collect from the Quaker's father." Rogers jabbed his chest to make his point, wanting him to get going so his business with Andre could be on the way sooner. "Go on with you." Richard encouraged as he turned away, walking back toward his bag of goodies on the table.

"No... Well no, I won't be riding anywhere." He says, finally realizing this trouble with Hewlett was going to rear it's ugly head again today. Rogers seemed confused, turning back to face him curiously. 

"Why not?" He asks, puzzled. Abe sighs, gesturing outside with the handle of the broom. He wasn't about to leave Thomas, especially not to leave him in Roger's hands.

"I can't leave the boy, so..." His brow was furrowed with worry. Thomas meant the world to him. He was most of the reason why he did any of this spy work, to keep him safe, and give him a future, a country to grow up in. 

"Ah, a little tiff with the wife, eh? Well that's fine, I'll go." Rogers insists quickly, assuming a lot without asking him anything. Abraham was immediately opposed to that, besides, there was too much he didn't know. He sure as hell didn't know how to be a proper spy. He could sneak up on people, but he wasn't discreet in the least.

"No!" He quickly denies him as he watched him head for the door. Rogers didn't even skip a beat, stopping in his tracks and turning toward the farmer.

"Fine, then you go and I'll watch the boy." He says in rebuttal. Abraham clenched his jaw again, mulling this over; and also wondering what to say so that Rogers would quit butting in. "Ah, I wasn't asking anyway." He mutters, quickly headed out the door, obviously to head to Samuel Townsend's place. 

Abraham felt anger swell in his chest like a monstrous wave in a stormy sea, tossing the half of the tart on the floor before hurling the broom to the floor with a loud clatter, shattering the handle. This man was infuriating and insane, why didn't he just listen to him for once?!

"Look, wait! Hewlett knows about me!" He calls after Rogers, quickly following him out of the cabin. Rogers stopped in his tracks and turned to face him at these words, Abraham stopping as well. He knew from experience it wasn't a good thing to get too close to him, and he wasn't about to get closer if he didn't have to. "He knows everything. The ring is done. It's over." He puts his arms out and then drops them back to his side in frustration. Rogers was quick to question him, stepping closer with his rifle in hand. It was hard to ignore the weapon.

"Then why are you still here and not dangling from a noose, huh?" Rogers asks curiously, getting too close once more, as if trying to read him like a book. "Huh?" Abraham sighs, putting his hands on his hips as he looked at the ground. Well he wasn't dangling from a noose because he had threatened the hell out of Major Hewlett. Still, doing that could have ended up with him being shot. It was a risk he had decided to gamble on, and thankfully he was reaping the reward and not the consequence.

"You look at me." Rogers ordered, and Abe knew better than to ignore him, braving the larger man's prying gaze to look at him. A tiny smile curled Roger's lips, and Abraham could feel his skin crawl. He wasn't sure how much more of this man he could take. He just wanted him gone and away from his son. "You're blackmailing him aren't ye?" He grins proudly, pointing at Abraham with a mirthful laugh. "Which means the ring ain't done, and I'm away to Oyster Bay." Abraham watched Rogers grin at his little rhyme, and start walking away. "Goodbye Thomas." He waved to the boy, before heading off. Abraham could feel rage boiling within him again, wanting to race after Rogers and tell him off.

"Want Mama..." Thomas whines. Abraham stopped on a dime, looking over to his son, hands still on his hips. He sighs. Thomas was one of the few people who could calm him so quickly. He missed Mary too, thinking back to what she had done for him. Staying at Whitehall as a "hostage." In all honesty, he felt like more of a hostage here at the farm than she likely did at Whitehall. He quickly forgot about confronting Rogers, walking over to Thomas to comfort him.

"I know you do Sprout..." He says softly, kneeling down and running his hand over his son's hair while he held him close, kissing him on the cheek. "I know you do little man. Come here, come here..." He carefully lifted Thomas up and away from the wood stump he was standing by. He held him so Thomas could see him, tapping on his chest gently.

"We are gonna get her back, all right?" He promises, walking over to the porch and leaning against one of the support posts. He watched Rogers leave for a moment. A slight scowl twisted his expression as he watched him go. This was either going to end badly, or turn out differently than he hoped. But then again, this plan was already doing both of those things.

***

Edmund sighs, sitting in the dining room with an apple in hand, half-heartedly reading Julius Caesar. He hadn't eaten breakfast, and yet he didn't feel hungry. Even as Anna had handed him an apple as a reminder to eat something, he couldn't bear to bite through the sweet fruit. He was pensive, turning the apple in his hand slowly as he mulled over what had happened over the last couple days. 

Revealing his love for Anna. Abraham's face in the moonlight, looming over him. Farmer not needed. Abraham being revealed as a spy, and then the ensuing blackmail. 

And now, he was concerned about worrying Anna over his disobedient stomach. He sighs, looking at the apple's shiny maroon skin. He reluctantly took a bite, knowing Anna was right to be concerned. There was already too much to worry about, and the last thing he wanted was to add himself to that mix.

The crunch of the apple was crisp and satisfying, the sweetness calming him as he chewed. He had to admit, he did feel a bit better now. A smile slowly found its way to his face as he ate, reading his book with a bit more focus. Perhaps a bit too much focus. He flinches as he accidentally nips his thumb, looking at the apple only to realize he had eaten the whole thing, core and all. He scoffs at himself, at least thankful he wouldn't have anything to throw away. His appetite had returned, and so he got up, leaving his book on the table in favor of grabbing more fruit. He had already picked up another apple when the door to Whitehall opened, and Wakefeild rushed over to him, two guards by his side.

"Major! Captain Simcoe has taken hold of the garrison!" He says urgently. Hewlett's heart sank as he quickly put the apple down, realizing the seriousness of the situation. There wasn't time for questions, they had to move now. A blazing fire began to build within him once again, determined to protect his town from the tyranny and brutality of Captain Simcoe. Not only protect the town, but Anna as well. If he couldn't eliminate a spy, maybe he could take down this monster instead! He rushed out of the dining room toward the stairs, in a hurry to grab his saber and pistol. He was thoroughly done with Simcoe at this point. Wakefield followed him up the stairs, realizing he needed to fill the Major in a bit more.

"Apparently a few of our men assaulted a Ranger, and as a result he's got some of our men in holding sir, strung up to be whipped." Wakefield explains. Hewlett grimaced at the thought as he entered his room, taking his saber from the mantle under a gorgeous painting. 

"He's taking hostages?" He translates, wondering how many were actually being threatened. Not like it mattered, he wasn't going to let Simcoe take over like this. He quickly added his saber to his belt, making a sharp metallic sound. Wakefield nods, quickly giving Hewlett the answer he had been looking for.

"Yes, four. The rest of the company is in the village green, awaiting your orders." He gives a conclusive report. Edmund grimaced. He didn't want a fight, but Simcoe seemed to be encouraging it. He went over to his desk drawer, unlocking it with a key and pulling out his pistol; along with powder and ammunition. 

"Whatever provocation our men may have given, this bloody business with Simcoe ends now." He vows. "And if it takes open battle..." He holds up his pistol and pushes the hammer forward with a sharp click. "So be it..." He looked at the weapon with a grave expression, his tone just as solemn. If he had to prove himself in battle, then it would be worth the sacrifice. This man had tormented Setauket for long enough. 

Hewlett looked over at the doorway as he saw an officer standing there, out of breath and seeming shocked.

"Sir, Captain Simcoe here to see you." He says urgently. Hewlett's heart pounded faster at the mention of his name. Here? Now? He almost wondered if he had heard the guard wrong.

"What?" He asks in shock, turning toward the young officer as he lowered his gun. 

"He rides alone under flag of truce." He says softly. Hewlett swiveled to face the doorway, a jumble of thoughts running through his head as he realized this was actually happening.

He clenched his jaw. The nerve of the man to come here under flag of truce, after everything that he had done. He had half a mind to come downstairs and shoot him himself. Still, abiding by protocol had more honor, and as much as he wanted Simcoe dead, he wasn't about to stoop to his level. He set his pistol down and walked past the officer, heading down the stairs. Wakefeild chased after him, hardly able to keep up with the speed everything was happening, the same as Hewlett. 

"Sir, I would advise against letting him in yourself." He says quietly, stopping Hewlett at the door. The Major rolls his eyes. Of course he wasn't going to let him in personally, that's why they had guards. 

"You think I'd be-... Have the guards let him in." He says snappily, clearly irritated. He wasn't stupid enough to open the door himself. That may as well be a death sentence. How could he trust a man like Simcoe to honor a flag of truce? The guards quickly headed to the door, and Hewlett made his way to the dining room. Wakefield followed him, realizing he wanted to be waiting for Simcoe when he came in.

Hewlett stood in front of the dining room table, Wakefeild by his side as he waited patiently for Simcoe to be brought in. He heard the door open, and three pairs of boots walk in toward the dining room. He swore he could pick out Simcoe's cadence; his strides were longer and slower than that of the guards. He dreaded seeing him, but there he was, walking into the room like he owned it. 

Simcoe was an imposing man, over 6 feet tall with a moss green uniform. The only thing that made him less domineering was the ridiculous leather hat that he wore, plumed with a white feather. He wore a blank expression, his gaze fixing on Hewlett the moment he noticed his presence. Hewlett fought the urge to look away, clutching the handle of his saber nervously. His piercing blue eyes stared straight through him, and he feared the Captain could see just how afraid he was. He hoped to God that he couldn't hear his heart beating. The Captain pulled back a chair, taking a seat at the end of the table; taking his hat off calmly as he slid his chair in a bit. Hewlett's mouth went dry as Simcoe's gaze focused on him once again, never truly leaving him. He was like a lion, lying in wait for his moment to strike.

"Would it be too much to ask, for a cup of tea? I am a guest, after all." He says in his typical polite tone. Hewlett wanted to scoff, looking over to Aberdeen as she quickly went off to make him some. Simcoe never took his eyes away from the Major, seeming to enjoy silently tormenting him. He had guts to assert himself this way. Cheeky bastard... 

They both kept themselves locked in a vicious stare down, Simcoe keeping his hands clasped on the table, tapping his index finger against his hand incessantly. Tap, Tap, Tap. Hewlett swallowed, trying to keep himself calm as he tightened his grip on his sword. He froze as he saw the slightest smile curl his adversaries lip. His blood ran cold, and yet a burning hatred made his ears hot.

Aberdeen came back a few moments later with a teapot, setting the saucer and cup down on the table before pouring him some tea; she also provided him with a handkerchief. The tea wasn't too hot, and was barely steaming, the perfect temperature for drinking. Simcoe's cold unfeeling gaze left Hewlett only this once to look at the hot beverage. He picked it up carefully, bringing it to his lips and taking a slow, audible sip. His gaze was piercing through Hewlett once again. He slowly lowered the cup, politely dabbing his lip with the napkin. He looked over at Aberdeen, offering his teacup for her to fill again.

"Thank you." He says softly, once again locking eyes with the Major. This was getting on Edmund's nerves. He couldn't just stay silent after what was conspiring in the town.

"Perhaps it would be best to keep that flag of truce handy. I wouldn't want my guards to find cause to shoot you." He says, almost sarcastically. In all honesty, he did want that. Then that would be the end of this little problem.

"That would be unfortunate, as you'd then be responsible for five deaths." Simcoe says, not seeming too concerned with the dry threat. He knew that he wasn't in any danger here. "If I don't return in an hour, the soldiers I took into custody for assaulting private O'Shaughnessy will be executed for their crime." He says somewhat gravely. Hewlett knew he wasn't messing around, and had no intention of "losing" this particular encounter. He would try to erode any margin of jurisdiction Edmund had in the town. As Simcoe raised the cup to his lips again, he seemed to remember something, a cheeky smile coloring his expression.

"By the way, how is Mrs. Strong settling in?" Edmund could tell from the smug grin that this was a direct move to infuriate him, and god damnit it worked. Simcoe's lips weren't fit to speak her name.

"You will release my men at once, or you will get this war that you are so clearly courting." Edmund's voice was stern and clipped. He wanted to fight this man, well- if he had the strength to do so. Simcoe gave him a thoughtful glance as he sipped his tea again.

"Perhaps war is the point." Simcoe responds simply. Hewlett's eyes narrowed at him. What on earth was he going on about? War with him? Was Simcoe trying to say he wanted to fight with him? Simcoe realized Hewlett didn't know what he meant, licking his lip before rising from the chair; teacup still in hand. He held it so delicately, one might not know how dangerous he was if you simply sat down with him for a cup of tea.

"The reason I came here is to inform you that it could be a third party is responsible, someone who hopes to encourage conflict between us." Hewlett watched Simcoe come closer, his heart beating faster as he tried to keep his expression firm.

"What third party?" Hewlett asks, impatient and snippy. Just come out with it man!

"Major Andre has informed me of a spy operating out of Long Island. A man named Samuel Culper." He explains, still holding his teacup, the saucer underneath. Hewlett seemed to understand, wondering if Abraham was the spy Simcoe was talking about. He couldn't be sure, and he wasn't going to tell Simcoe. If Simcoe caught Abraham, then he would be exposed as well. He couldn't allow that, not when he had to protect Anna from Simcoe.

"I see. First I'm to believe that Ensign Norwich hanged himself last spring and now that a rebel spy killed Corporal Eastin?" Hewlett questions, skeptical and honestly hoping that Simcoe couldn't read his thoughts. Simcoe set his teacup on the saucer, looking down at his cup for a moment before meeting Hewlett's gaze with a dangerous glare.

"Well, when you sort through your beliefs, you may come to realize that war with me is unwise." He warns dangerously, his voice dropping an octave. Edmund swallows the tense lump in his throat as his gaze flickered down to the teacup then back up at Simcoe. He wondered for only a moment if Simcoe could kill him with the dainty cup. 

"So I'll leave it to you to mete out the discipline your men deserve. 50 lashes each, to be witnessed by both our units." He says, as if this was the most reasonable solution to the problem. Even if Edmund's men had somehow caused this clash, he hardly thought that many lashes would be necessary. "Otherwise I'll do it myself, undermining any pretense of authority you have left." He says, as if he was the highest authority in the room. Edmund looked at him with a calmer expression, still on edge. How was he supposed to avoid this?

"You have 24 hours." Simcoe says softly, taking the last sip of his tea as he walked back toward the end of the table. Edmund wanted to punch him from how loudly he sipped his drink. Edmund sighs silently, watching the Captain carefully. He looks back at the guards to signal them to escort Simcoe out. The ruthless man couldn't help but give him one last farewell as he left.

"Good day, Major." He bid him adieu with his typically cheery tone. Edmund clenched his jaw, knowing once again that this was intentional to make him annoyed. He tried to ignore the infernal man. The guards came back in after completing their task. Edmund sighs, shaking his head as he left the dining room and headed back toward his own, starting to climb the stairs. He needed to plan out a possible attack on Simcoe. He wasn't about to play by Simcoe's rules.

But for a proper plan, he needed the materials to see it out. A map, pencils and paper, and- 

His stomach growled, reminding him that he was hungry. And- apparently the proper amount of food.


	3. Two Faces, Two Sides, One Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dead of night, Abraham and Hewlett make a pact to kill Captain Simcoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm I almost fell asleep multiple times proofreading this monster chapter. <3   
> I love it though.

Hewlett chews his lip, leaning over Richard's desk to peer at the map of the town. He sighs with exasperation. The garrison had plenty of advantages when held, and unfortunately since Simcoe had taken it, he had no way to prevail. Simcoe had the high ground, so he would be able to see his men coming, and even if he could use the trees as cover, they were too sparse to do any good. Simcoe's men were excellent marksmen, and the ruthless Captain likely had them on constant lookout. There was no way to ambush him, nor fight him with any certainty of winning. He didn't even know how many men Simcoe had. He figured it was a couple dozen, but he had to be sure. He quickly remembered that Simcoe now had control of the cannons on the hill as well. He jumped a bit in surprise as Corporal Wakefeild spoke to him.

"Planning on attacking Captain Simcoe?" He asks quietly, his brow furrowed with concern. Hewlett sighs, his expression hardening as he looked at the map, nodding.

"Yes. Though I'm afraid I'm not sure how to execute a successful attack." He emphasizes the word "successful" with a grave tone, still looking over the map with uncertainty. Wakefeild looked over the plans, trying to help the Major come up with something.

"Perhaps you could ambush him, flank him like the rebels did to us." He says softly. Hewlett clenched his jaw at the bitter reminder, realizing that this tactic wouldn't work with Simcoe. He was far too aggressive to let that defeat him. As much as he hated to admit it, Simcoe was fiendishly smart and combative.

"Problem is by taking control of the garrison, they have command of the high ground... And they have our cannon." He explains, reminding Wakefeild of the compromised position they were in as he gestured to the map. They had no advantage against the resourceful Captain. 

"So we lay siege, starve them out." Wakefield reasons, trying to come up with something to add. Hewlett shakes his head, no that wouldn't work either. He didn't want his men to be executed because he decided to corner Simcoe. Trapping an animal like him was a dangerous and fatal game.

"No, this needs to be swift and decisive. Get me a proper count of their men, and see if they've moved our cannons." He orders, locking eyes with Wakefeild. The Corporal nodded, quickly setting off to send a scout. Hewlett nervously looks back to the sketch of the town. He brought his pencil to his lips, tempted to chew it as he pensively tapped it against his teeth. He let out a tense sigh in defeat as he looked over the plans again. There didn't seem to be any way to win. He squeezed his pencil in his hand. Simcoe on one side, and this blackmail from Abraham on the other; he felt cornered.

"You're planning to attack Simcoe?" Anna asks suddenly as she entered the office. Edmund glanced over at her in surprise, but wasn't bothered by her appearance. Well- He didn't necessarily want to attack him, it seemed a foolish and desperate choice, even now.

"He's left me no choice." He explains, looking back at his graph of the town. "And it- it is not only Simcoe." He adds, shaking his head with frustration as he tried to think of what to say. "Th-This business with Abraham Woodhull-- I feel as if I am besieged on two sides..." He grasped at the back of a chair, giving himself something to hold onto; as if to try and steady his thoughts. Finally he thought of a proper analogy to explain his situation.

"Like Odysseus," He tosses his pencil onto the table with a touch of anger. "trying to steer between Scylla and Charybdis." He spat with a huff, grasping at the handle of his saber. Anna quickly jumped in, just in case Hewlett was going to ramble on again. 

"That's from Homer, isn't it?" She seemed fairly certain, though wanted to confirm it with him. Edmund gave her a curt nod, thinking on the story for a moment to explain it.

"Indeed. They were a pair of sea monsters, one a six headed giant and the other a massive whirlpool." He explains quickly, talking with his hands as he began telling her the tale. "They guarded two sides of a narrow strait. To avoid one, sailors would have to sail too close by the other." He finishes, putting his hand on his saber again. There was no true way to succeed in his case. Choosing the lesser of two evils, between Simcoe and Abraham, was an impossible decision.

"How did Odysseus prevail?" Anna asks, seeming interested in hearing the rest of the story. Edmund was grateful for that at least, he could work out his feelings with her when he had no one else to turn to. 

"He didn't. Realizing his entire ship would be lost if he passed too close to the whirlpool, he chose instead of course by Scylla, sacrificing six of his men to each of it's hungry heads." He grimaced at the thought of losing his forces against Simcoe, or losing himself to Abraham's threat. He paced around thoughtfully, hoping he could think of something, anything. After a long pause, Anna spoke up again, making him hesitate.

"Simcoe is Charybdis." She began. Edmund turned his head at this. "You can't beat him." She says softly. Edmund didn't want to think about this, hoping rather vainly that he could still come out on top with this debacle. 

"One thing I have learned from the classics is tactics. I will find a way!" He says, determined not to lose against Simcoe. He couldn't lose... His pride didn't want to allow it. He had to succeed for himself, and most importantly for Anna.

"Tactics won't help with Simcoe." Anna says softly, trying to help Edmund by letting him see the truth of his vanity and pride. She walked over to his side, hoping she could appeal to him. "It is his nature that is the problem, and yours." She explains. Edmund looked up at her with a touch of surprise. What did his nature have to do with anything? 

"Mine?" He asks, somewhat offended. There wasn't anything wrong with him, Simcoe was the one who had his men held hostage! 

"Well, you could have shot him while he was here, but you didn't." She says, looking into his eyes. Edmund swallowed, his lips pursing as he thought about what she said. Well he couldn't just shoot Simcoe under flag of truce, that would go against everything he stood for.

"Shot an unarmed man under flag of truce?" He wanted to scoff. There was a difference between a good choice, and the right choice. Anna took a moment to think, so close now that Edmund could see the slightest changes in her expression. 

"The fact that even now, you can't stoop to his level is to your credit, Edmund." Her hand raised to his chest, and he tensed until her palm rested against him, making a sigh escape him. She confused him, and entranced him. She was beautiful and complex. "You're a good and decent man." She whispers sincerely, raising her hand to his neck and then his cheek. He was calmed by her touch, and yet still her words contradicted her.

"So my only choice is to submit?" He asks bitingly. Did stooping to Simcoe's level mean being better in battle? He couldn't lose his humanity in exchange for that. Was it better to be a good man, but be unable to protect his true love? Or an indecent one and defeat a common enemy? Anna seemed to realize she had offended him a little, now thinking of something more appealing to take down the devious Captain. 

"If you're feeling... trapped, between the proverbial rock and the hard place..." Her expression was thoughtful as she looked away from him briefly. "Why not use the rock to smash the hard place?" She suggests. Edmund looked at her blankly. Well, now he wasn't sure if she was complex or crazy. 

"Last year, Simcoe framed you for murder-" Anna reminded him. Edmund sighed bitterly at the memory, his nostrils flaring. The last thing he wanted to remember now was his time in captivity, and the dreadful accusation those rebels had pushed onto him. He couldn't get the image of the tongue out of his mind. "and used rebel soldiers to try to kill you. Why not return the favor?" She asks. Edmund could see her plan starting to form. "By using rebels that you've just been made aware of... to kill him?" She suggests. 

Edmund blinked, his mind racing as he pieced together exactly what she was implying. Use Abraham's connections to defeat Simcoe? It was drastic, fraudulent, and sneaky, but it just might work. He wouldn't have to do much. A plan was starting to form, and he would see it to the end.

"Tonight... I need you to go to him tonight and tell him about your plan." He gently takes Anna's hand, brushing his thumb over it gently. Anna nodded, looking at him with tender care. A little smile came to her lips. "I'll conspire with him tonight if he agrees... Make a final plan to kill this beast, once and for all." He vows, bringing Anna's hand to his lips and planting a kiss on it. She gasps softly, surprised at the sudden gesture. A smile lit up Edmund's face as he gazed upon Anna. It was a blessing to him, to be able to look upon her beauty everyday, and listen to her. She nods.

"I'll tell him." Anna says softly, giving him one last smile before turning to leave. Edmund swallowed, watching her depart. He smiles, letting out an amused and somewhat disbelieving scoff at himself. 

Earlier that day he had been blackmailed by the very spy he was about to cooperate with; in order to vanquish a foe they both dreaded. Using Abraham as a weapon against Simcoe, the untamed and seemingly invincible monster. Hopefully this plan they would form would be enough. It dawned on him again that Abraham might be the spy Simcoe had mentioned; Samuel Culper; and that he had shot Corporal Eastin... Could that be possible? He couldn't be certain that Simcoe was telling the truth about that, but with this business, he couldn't be sure of anything. 

***

The fireplace was ablaze with a shimmering flame, filling the small cabin with a calm warmth. Abraham had just tucked Thomas into bed, and was quietly humming to him, trying to soothe him to sleep. He didn't remember the words, but he knew the tune. As he hummed, he saw his son's eyes start to flutter closed, and he couldn't help but smile. Abraham kept singing, and slowly his son fell asleep. This made him happier than he could possibly say in words, and he carefully leaned forward to kiss Thomas on the forehead. 

He pauses as there was a knock at the door, his heart jumping to his throat. He stared at the door, his jaw clenched. He could feel his heart pounding and hear the blood rushing in his ears as adrenaline made his body light.

"Abraham it's me..." Anna says quietly. Abraham immediately let out the breath he had been holding, rolling his eyes. At this rate he would perish from a heart attack before anyone had the chance to hang him. He realized that the knock at the door had woken Thomas up, and with a sigh he gently patted his son's head.

"Sorry Sprout..." He mutters softly, rising up from the bed and heading over to the door. He opened it slowly, but Anna quickly came inside, her eyes bright. Abraham knew something was up, and he could only hope that why she was here wasn't about him.

"What're you doin' here Anna? You woke Thomas..." He says with a huff, gesturing to his son. He kept his voice somewhat low. Anna sighs, pursing her lips as she took a few steps in and closed the door behind her. 

"Well you aren't going to like it. Simcoe is back in town, and has control of the church." She explains solemnly, her brow furrowed with worry. Goosebumps shivered across Abe's skin at the mention of his name. He could feel a lump of nervousness form in his throat.

"Christ..." He swallows, running his hand over his head nervously, feeling his hair to try and calm himself. "Well he can't know I'm..." He cut himself off, but Anna knew what he meant, sighing as well. Anna was thoughtful for a moment, but then quickly started up again.

"Simcoe might have control of the church, but we can get rid of him!" She whispered the shout, trying not to be loud to disturb Thomas too much. Abraham gave her a puzzled look, his brow furrowed heavily. Get rid of Simcoe? They had been trying to do that for what seemed like the third time, and nothing had worked!

"Anna what the hell are you talking about? Caleb didn't kill him, I didn't in the duel, Hewlett stabbed him, and he's still standing!" He points out, gesturing with his hand as if to insinuate his point. Anna knew she would have to convince him somehow.

"You can get rid of him. By working with Hewlett to kill him." She says firmly and earnestly. Abraham was shocked at the outlandish demand. Did Anna even realize how crazy her plan sounded?!

"What?! No!" Abe's expression was intense as he quickly opposed the idea, finding it idiotic and insane. Anna scoffs, still hoping she could appeal to him. She knew her plan could work.

"At least listen to the plan!" Anna pleaded. Abraham rolled his eyes, gesturing wildly as he listened to Anna. 

"The plan? There's a plan?!" Abraham asks in disbelief. Had she talked to Hewlett about this somehow? And why on earth was she the one coming to him about this? This was getting more mind-numbing by the second. Anna was quick to continue.

"At first you conspire with Hewlett to lure Simcoe..." She began. Abraham didn't want to hear it, trying to shut her down before she could get started. He didn't want to work with Hewlett, and he didn't want to risk exposing his friends. 

"No!" He shouted firmly, yet still somewhat quietly. Anna kept going as if she hadn't heard him.

"into an ambush..." She finished her sentence. Abraham glared at her in disbelief. 

"Did you just miss my second no?!" He asks, watching her circle around him and try to keep her gaze locked to his.

"And then Caleb springs the trap, leaving Hewlett's hands clean!" She explains. Her plan was sound. Simcoe being ambushed by rebels would certainly be preferable to Hewlett fighting him, or Abraham trying to assassinate him himself. Besides, Caleb wasn't going to let Simcoe slip through his fingers again. Abraham face-palmed, letting out a defeated sigh. Obviously Anna wasn't going to listen to him, she would just keep flapping her gums until he gave in.

"This is a terrible idea." He says flatly, telling her blatantly how he felt, if she hadn't picked up on it before. He turned away from her, with the futile hope she would stop pushing the matter.

"Because I had it? Or because you don't think it will work?" She asks, seeming a little offended. Abraham sighs, knowing answering that question was a trap. So he promptly avoided it.

"Why would I help stop a war I fought so hard to begin?" He asks, honestly curious as to what she would say as he put his arms out. They had done so much to get them fighting in the first place, and now the immediate solution was killing Simcoe? 

"Because otherwise Simcoe will win!" Anna says sharply, saying this as if it was obvious; it was. Abraham sighs, looking away as he tried to think more clearly. He knew that, but he didn't want to admit it. "And he knows the name Culper." She adds suddenly.

Abraham's blood ran cold. This was the one thing he was afraid of. More than anything, he was afraid of being caught, most of all by Simcoe. He couldn't even begin to imagine the torment that the ruthless Captain would subject him too. Goosebumps raised on his body again as he swallowed the fear in his throat. Now Simcoe really did need to be taken care of, no matter the cost. 

"I heard him say it." Anna continued. Abraham was only growing more nervous with every word she spoke. "It's only a matter of time before he closes in on you." Abe could hear her, but he wished he couldn't. He didn't have a choice. It was either conspire with the enemy, or surely perish by Simcoe's blade. 

"This way you can take care of him. And at the same time gain another hedge against Hewlett turning you in." She finished the speech. Abe leaned against the bed, staring down at the floor pensively. That was true, it would just be one more barrier keeping him safe. But still, he didn't know how to feel about it, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered how he was going to tell his plan to Hewlett.

"Abe." Anna called to him firmly. Abe sighs, looking up at her after a long pause. What could she possibly want him to say? Thank you?

"You're welcome." She said bluntly. Abraham straightened his posture, putting his hands on his hips again as he looked down at her. He sighs, clenching his jaw for a moment.

"Thanks." He says curtly, running his hand over his head again as he watched Anna start to head for the door. He scoffs as he knew Anna thought she was done here. "You uh- You going to tell me when and where I'm meeting Hewlett? Since you seem to be the courier." He says sourly, taking a seat at the end of the bed. Anna paused at the door, suddenly realizing this.

"Oh- Hewlett is... Going to meet you here. He'll meet you here. Tonight." She says, clasping her hands together. Abraham huffs with partial amusement. She seemed like she was unsure; like she was coming up with this on her own and on the fly; and that she had the Major under her thumb. 

"Alright. Oh- could you tell him to bring something to drink? I want to have a talk with him." He says softly. Anna nods, puzzled by this, but she didn't ask any questions; she figured he probably wanted to discuss the plan more thoroughly with him. She was just about to close the door behind her when Abe piped up again. "Don't tell him it was my idea though." He adds suddenly. Anna chuckles softly, closing the door without responding. 

Abraham was left alone again with his son, and finally he felt like he could relax a little. He looked over at his son, seeing his sleepy eyes closing again as silence resumed. Abe smiled at Thomas, getting up and leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. He was content as he saw Thomas smile. The fire in the hearth burned steadily, the warm glow painting the inside of the cabin. The light seemed to flicker and dance with hope.

***

Hewlett flipped a page of his book, patiently waiting for Anna to return to Whitehall. This time he was reading The Odyssey, wondering if he could get any advice from it. The classics not only had tactics, but also advice and useful proverbs. Not only was it passing the time, but he was calming himself down with a familiar story. He lost himself in the book, absorbed in the story and the characters. Sometimes he felt like he could escape the world and its worries by delving into stories like these.

His nose was so buried in his book, he didn't realize Anna had come back from recruiting Abraham. He was reading in Richard's office, a fire burning slowly on the hearth. Anna walked over to him slowly, getting his attention by putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her quickly, just a little surprised to see her back so soon. 

"Anna..." He muttered softly, glancing down at his book to make a mental note of the page he was on before closing it and setting it down. He got up, turning to face her expectantly. "What did Abraham say?" He asks quickly. He needed to know if this plan could be executed immediately. Otherwise he needed to desperately start planning an attack on Simcoe by himself. Anna nods, immediately making Edmund sigh with relief. He wouldn't be alone in taking out Simcoe.

"He agreed." She says simply. Edmund smiles, suddenly realizing that even though the plot was in motion, they didn't have an actual plan yet. He sighs, a frown dimming his expression. 

"I still need to work out a plan that will work... Perhaps we lure him off somehow..." He shakes his head, chewing his cheek as he brought his hand to his lips thoughtfully. Anna nods, gently taking his free hand to get his attention. Edmund looked her, his hand lowering from his face a little.

"You use the name Culper to lure him. A false lead." She says softly. Hewlett's expression brightened, an idea sparking. Maybe he could use that list of names, and change one to fool him. He would have to rewrite the list, but it was a very small task in comparison to the heavy lifting Abraham's side would have to do.

"That's brilliant... I'll talk it over with him, but I do have a few ideas." He pauses, realizing how excited he had become with Anna helping him with this. He clears his throat, taking a moment to collect himself as he realized the gravity of this situation. He had to convince Simcoe to ride into a trap, and somehow keep his hands clean, and his adversaries suspicion low. With how sharp Simcoe was, the thought dawned on Edmund that he could be in trouble if this plan somehow didn't work. 

"What if... this plan doesn't work?" He asks Anna, his brow furrowing with worry. Anna smiles reassuringly at him, reaching up to his cheek and caressing it gently. The Major let out a soft sigh at her consoling. 

"It will work. You're smarter than you think, sometimes." She chuckles softly. Hewlett gave her an amused smile. Perhaps he didn't give himself enough credit sometimes. "And by the way... You probably shouldn't meet him in uniform. Red isn't exactly a discreet color." She chuckles. Edmund looks down at his outfit, letting out a small scoff.

"I suppose you're right." He admits, starting to walk off toward the stairs to get changed into something more "spy appropriate". Anna stopped him suddenly, gently taking his arm. Edmund looked back at her again, wondering what was up now.

"Maybe bring something to drink for the both of you. Calm the nerves." She says softly. Edmund hums, nodding in agreement. After how tense things had been over the last couple days, a drink would be nice. "It might help you to work things out." She says softly. Edmund scoffs at this. He didn't oppose the idea, but he was far from truly getting along with Abraham. 

"We'll talk over a drink. But an alliance past this plan is simply impossible. He is a rebel and a traitor, I am an officer in the King's army. There is nothing anyone else can do to change that." He says firmly, gently taking his arm away from her and heading up the stairs toward his room. Anna knew he was right, but she still hoped that neither of them would end up killing the other after this plan was done. 

***

The moon was high in the sky, Abe's fields bathed in an eerie silver light. He waited patiently in the cabin, sitting at the table with his chin resting in his hand. He didn't exactly have much else to do besides think anyway. He had become more withdrawn the longer he acted as a spy, as it was an occupational hazard. He wondered how long he had to wait before Hewlett turned up, surely it wouldn't be too long now. He couldn't really plan much, as Anna seemed to have everything figured out already. His mind raced while the time only seemed to grow slower. 

Hewlett walked toward the cabin slowly, seeing smoke billowing from the chimney. It looked cozy inside the small lodging, warm yellow light coming from the windows. He fought off a shiver as the cold fall breeze chilled him. The moon was the only other light, casting Hewlett's short shadow on the unkempt, dry grass. He didn't want to stand out here when the comfort of the cabin was so enticing.

A knock at the door nearly made Abraham jump out of his skin. He glared at the door tensely, swallowing to try and make his mouth less dry. He hoped and prayed to god that it was Hewlett, and only Hewlett. He let out the breath he had been holding as the Major spoke up.

"Abraham?" Hewlett called to the farmer quietly. He hoped he hadn't startled him. Things were already tense as they were, he didn't want to make the man feel more cornered than he already was. He glanced down at the satchel he was carrying, which held a bottle of rum; he figured Abraham might appreciate this more than the bottle of madeira he also had with him. Of course he had brought glasses as well. He looked up at Abraham as he opened the door slightly, standing away from the small opening. He realized Abe might not know he was alone. "I'm alone." He clarifies.

Abraham sighs, opening the door a bit more as he looked Hewlett up and down, searching to see if he had a weapon. Immediately his eyes fell on the satchel Hewlett carried, and he pointed to it warily. Abe had to be certain he wasn't in any danger.

"What've you got there?" He asks, his eyes shifty and anxious. Edmund looks down at his bag, making a face of realization. He must be on edge already...

"It's not a weapon. I thought that maybe you'd want to talk about this over a drink... I'm sure your nerves are as shot as mine..." He says with a sigh, opening the leather bag slowly so he wouldn't threaten the other man. He pulled out the bottle of rum, and the bottle of madeira. "I wasn't sure which you would prefer." He explains, holding up the bottles. Hewlett didn't stop Abe from taking the bottle of rum.

"Whatever is stronger." He says bluntly, walking out of the cabin and over to the end of the porch, which was just barely bathed in moonlight, out of the shadows. Hewlett frowns, hoping they would talk inside where it was warmer. Abraham shot down this idea before Edmund even had the chance to voice it. "Thomas is asleep. He's already been woken once tonight, and I'd like it to be kept that way." He explains. Edmund pursed his lips. Well he couldn't exactly argue with that. Hewlett followed Abraham over to the end of the porch, watching the farmer sit down and look up at him. 

Abraham looked up at the Major, seeing his face bathed in shadow; Hewlett looking back at Abraham's, swathed in silver light. 

They both hoped that they could just talk about this and not worry about sides, blackmail, or the obvious tension, but unfortunately that was impossible. Too much stood between them for there to be any margin of comfort; at the moment.

Edmund joined Abraham in sitting on the porch, facing the moonlight. For a moment, neither of them knew what to say, the crickets concert being the only sound to fill the silence. Abraham uncorked the bottle of rum, bringing it to his lips and taking a hearty swig. Hewlett looked at him as if he were the six-headed beast; Scylla. Abraham looked over at him.

"What? You'd be drinking too if you had to worry about being killed every day." Abe points out. Edmund scoffs, taking the cork out of the madeira bottle. He had a point. And honestly if he could forget the blackmail and Andre's mistrust in him, he would.

"Well, lets toast to not worrying about that right now." Hewlett says hopefully. Abraham snorts, clinking his bottle against Edmund's gently. They both took a swig of their preferred drinks, Edmund coughing a little at the burn in his throat. Abe chortles softly, shaking his head. The silence took over again, and all that they looked at was the landscape, coated in starlight. Edmund looked up at the stars, hoping they could give him guidance. 

"So this is what it's like to be a spy, skulking around at night?" He asks. Abraham glanced over at him, shaking his head as he took another swig of his rum. Edmund did the same as the farmer responded.

"Well it's more about fooling the gullible to be able to skulk in the day." Abe explains brashly. Hewlett rolls his eyes. He had hoped the alcohol would curb Abraham's attitude. Clearly not.

"Don't push too hard, Abraham. Your wife isn't here to protect you..." He mutters bitterly. Abraham realized his comment may have been a bit harsh, but he couldn't just back down after a response like that.

"Nor are your guards here to stop me from dropping another King's man by the side of the road." He winced as he realized what he just spilt. Idiot. Edmund whipped his head over to glare at him, his brow furrowed with anger and shock.

"You murdered Corporal Eastin? In cold blood?" He asks, flabbergasted. Abraham shakes his head, taking yet another swig of alcohol. Hewlett seemed confused at first.

"Lukewarm. He shot my father." He explains curtly. Edmund was surprised at how calm Abraham was, and... disturbed. He raised the bottle of Madeira to his lips, boldly taking a mouthful, then another. Abraham looked at the Major with shock, unable to hide the smile that came from the amusement of watching him drink this much. The burn in his throat suddenly became too much, and Hewlett pulled the bottle away, spluttering and coughing. He cleared his throat, trying to rid the sensation.

"Damn... This isn't nearly as strong..." Edmund sighs, glancing over at Abraham's bottle. He wanted to forget these feelings, forget that Eastin had been killed by the person sitting beside him, forget the looming threat of Simcoe... The farmer scoffs, shaking his head. They still had to talk about their plan. They couldn't get too drunk yet. He was surprised as the Major spoke up again.

"I've come to learn that pragmatism must at times trump ideals or emotions..." He began. There was a difference between thinking something will work, and actually finding a proper solution; things needed to be shown to work in practice, not just on paper. There was no telling if their plan could succeed or fail, until the result came to fruition. Abraham looked over at Hewlett's moon-lit face as he continued.

"Though I'm sure you'll agree that Simcoe dead is ideal for all concerned." Edmund spat the word "dead" as if it were poison, and sharp on his tongue. Abraham nods in agreement, raising his bottle.

"I'll drink to that." Abraham says boldy. Hewlett tilted his head, as if to say: no kidding. They both took a swig of their drinks, Hewlett letting out another small cough. Abe sighs, shaking his head.

"Take it easy on the amount man..." He advises, looking over at the Major with a touch of worry. At this rate he wouldn't be able to walk home. Edmund sighs, looking back at Abraham. He wasn't sure if he still wanted to go through with this. Abraham chews his lip.

"I thought we had agreed on that already." Abe says softly, his brow furrowing with misunderstanding. Hewlett scoffs, nodding as he scratched at his neck idly. Abraham sighs, wondering now what would happen after Simcoe was taken care of... They couldn't just live with the fact that Abe was a spy, and that Hewlett just had that information. Abraham knew it was dangerous to trust in a King's man.

"Then I suppose we have. But-" Hewlett began, until he was cut off by Abe.

"What happens when Simcoe is dead, then what?" Abe asks sharply. He couldn't ignore the facts, as they were staring him in the face, literally. Edmund looked back at the farmer with his deep russet eyes, lit by the moon.

What would happen after that? He wondered silently, listening to the crickets and the rustle of wind in the trees. He stared back at Abe, seeing his expression painted in the pale light, almost making him appear like marble. 

"Well you can't stay here. I'm sure you know that." Hewlett says harshly, taking a small sip of his madeira. The realization came to Edmund that perhaps he knew too much, and Abraham may find him to be a threat. Well- there was no doubt of this. He was a threat to Abraham; knowing he was a spy would likely put a big red target on his back. "Perhaps you'll find a warm welcome in Washington's camp." He adds, hoping he could give Abraham a few options. In all honesty he wished it didn't have to be this way. 

Abraham sighs, taking a swig of his rum before looking back at Edmund. He had to get talking about their plan now if they were going to keep drinking like this. Of course, he had to at least try not to reveal anything too crucial while talking with him.

"So uh... I hear Simcoe knows the name Culper. We'll use that name to bait the trap for him." Abraham was terrible at lying, and trying to mask the truth. Once his cover was even the slightest bit revealed, his veil fell apart. Edmund was still sharp enough to connect the dots, much to Abe's dismay.

"You're Culper, aren't you?" Edmund pieces it together quickly, looking back at him knowledgeably. There was something about having this "forbidden" information that made his pulse quicken. Seeing a spy, their mask crumbled to dust; plain faced with nowhere to hide. Why did he feel this way staring into the deep pools of Abraham's eyes, his face cast with marble colors. He was oddly beautiful.

Abraham swallowed, peering back at the Major. His heart was pounding. His cover was low, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. Why was Hewlett staring at him so closely? Edmund's gaze was unwavering and intense, staring at him as if he was something to be-... admired?

"What do you care?" Abraham asked quietly, thrown off by Edmund's fixated staring. Edmund hums, wondering somewhat drunkenly if he cared or not. He supposed he didn't, but there was something more important he did care about.

"I don't. But there is something that I care very deeply about... Can I trust a rebel spy?" He asks softly, taking a sip of his madeira before looking back at Abraham. Abe couldn't explain why his gaze now made him feel so unsure, and yet... he felt calm. It confused him. This uncertainty was making him uneasy. 

"Can I trust a red coat officer?" Abraham asks pointedly. The blatant answer was no, but... Why did he suddenly feel like he could trust Hewlett with his life, but not his secret? It had to be the alcohol talking, right?

Edmund sighs, mulling this over for a moment, his eyes flickering over to Abe's bottle of rum a few times. He wanted to have a taste of it, but wasn't quite certain how to ask, madeira clouding his judgement now more than ever. 

In all honesty, Edmund had actually drank most of the madeira bottle before he had even gotten to Abe's door. And now, his bottle was nearly empty. 

Abraham watched in shock as Hewlett suddenly snatched his bottle out of his hands, bringing it to his lips and taking one hearty swig as he threw his head back. He let out a low and husky huff from the burn as he lowered his head. Abraham blinks, watching the usually composed Major look back at him with a fiery and intense gaze. He noticed that Edmund hadn't coughed this time. Apparently he had gotten the hang of it, or was simply tolerating the burn in his throat. 

"I don't know, can you trust me? If you do... we'll kill this murdering bastard." He says, his eyes blazing with determination. He may be drunk, but he was confident now. Abraham grins, taking the bottle of madeira and raising it to Hewlett. They gave each other an understanding look of agreement, both of them taking a swig from their bottles. Of course, Abe was shocked to find that Hewlett's bottle of madeira had been drained already. He looks back at the Major, gently making him lower the bottle of rum. 

Hewlett paused, realizing that drinking this much was likely a mistake. He put the bottle down, the fire in his eyes fizzling as he looked back at Abraham's face, which was lit with concern. Well, it certainly seemed that way to him. He was confused, the alcohol only worsening it. Abraham spoke up again.

"We'll kill him... But we have to communicate on where he's going to be..." Abraham says softly. He was just as drunk as Hewlett, but he had built up a tolerance to it, a bit more cognitive than the Major. Edmund hums, his thoughts foggy as he looked up at the stars, trying to think of a good spot to lure Simcoe.

"Mm. Rocky Point. A day east of here. I'll give Simcoe a list of names with the only alteration being Samuel Copler." He mutters, trying to work things out in his head. Abraham thought it over, nodding in agreement. He could easily have Caleb ambush Simcoe there. It only sweetened the pie to know that his childhood bully; Beekman; would be met by Caleb. Abe knew his friend would give him a "friendly hello" for him. 

"Good. Oh- uh... It's Culper, not Copler." He clarifies. Hewlett snorts, realizing his mistake.

"Ah, yes... Culper." He started to giggle, looking up at Abraham with a beaming grin. Abraham stared back at him, unable to keep himself from grinning as he listened to the Major's laugh. Edmund cleared his throat, trying to stop himself from laughing. "I'm sorry, it's the madeira talking, I'm not- supposed to be laughing." He couldn't stop chuckling at himself, looking at Abe only seemed to make it worse as his vision swam. Abraham sighs, shaking his head. There was no way the Major could go home like this.

"You need to sober up a little before you head on home." He says quietly, his tone somewhat serious. Edmund glanced at him, humming in partial agreement as he ran his hand over his head, fluffing his short hair. Abraham watched the Major's hair gleam in the starlight, shimmering as he turned his head to look up at the sky. 

"What are you fighting for?" Edmund asks suddenly, his words somewhat slurred. He was genuinely curious why Abraham had chosen to be a traitor, instead of choosing to stay neutral or stay safe as a loyalist. His own thoughts were hazy, and the lines between their sides were beginning to blur.

Abraham was surprised to hear him ask, figuring that he wasn't thinking straight. He didn't actually care, did he? He thought for a moment, coming up with the answer rather quickly in his head, though he wasn't eager on sharing it with the Major, who was likely keen on seeing him out of town after this was over. But even so, as he looked at him, he wasn't sure if he actually cared or not. The way Hewlett had looked at him moments ago...

"You're drunk." Abe says bluntly, shaking his head. He couldn't just tell him what he was fighting for, could he? Well, as drunk as Hewlett was, he might not remember any of this in the morning. 

Hewlett scoffs, what did that have to do with the question he had asked? He was genuinely curious, and the madeira had given him the balls to ask such a daring question to a spy who might kill him after this was over.

"No- well yes... But I mean it." Edmund looked back at Abraham, seeing that the farmer's eyes were already locked on him. This caught him a little off guard, but he wasn't off-put by it. He could meet Abe's gaze better now, unafraid and curious about him. He couldn't help but admire his moon-lit features, cast in the etherial light he adored. His deep brown eyes reminded him of Anna's. In his hazy mind, he admired Abe in the same way. 

"I'm fighting for Thomas." Abe began, his expression hardening as he thought long and hard about why he was doing what he did. "I'm fighting this way so I can live to see him grow, and in a place that he can prosper in... I can't tell him everything I'm doing, but he'll know how hard I fought to keep him safe, and how much I gave to ensure his happiness..." He paused for a long moment, looking down at the grass; radiant with pale light. Edmund kept his gaze upon him, waiting for him to continue. "I'm not fighting just for myself, and what I believe in... This is about more than me." He finished, looking back at Edmund. He was surprised to see him still staring at him. Why was Edmund gazing at him with such esteem?

"I can respect that." The Major says softly, taking himself and Abe by surprise. Abraham clears his throat, feeling oddly uncomfortable. He knew drinking this much was a bad idea, and yet he had asked for it. He was surprised Hewlett hadn't thrown up from drinking so much so quickly, and he was somewhat thankful for it. 

"What are you fighting for, Major?" Abe asks in retort. It was only fair that he get his answer as well. Edmund hums, knowing he couldn't just spill his love for Anna here. Not like this. He cherished that lovely woman more than the stars, and the stories he held close to his chest. With a cheeky smile, Hewlett scoffed with amusement.

"I think it best... for me to leave." He slurred, shifting his weight to try and get up. He lets out a soft huff as he toppled over as soon as he got to his feet. Abraham shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched Edmund try again.

"Hewlett..." He mutters softly. He almost felt like a doting parent, steadying the Major as he helped him stand. He guided his drunken acquaintance over to a support post. He made sure Hewlett was holding on before heading into the cabin to get him some water and fruit.

Edmund smiles, hanging onto the pole as he looked up at the sky again, focused on the moon. His thoughts were few and scattered, mostly fixated on the dizzy and unsteady feeling in his head. His eyes didn't seem to want to focus, but that was alright with him. He didn't need to focus on the sky too closely, as he knew it well. He barely realized Abraham was holding a glass of water out to him. Of course Hewlett finally noticed as the cup was nudged into his hand, and he compliantly drank the offered water. He let out a small huff after chugging the whole thing, looking back at Abe.

"Thank you..." He mutters softly, handing him the cup, only for it to be replaced with an apple. Edmund looked at him with confusion, wondering why he had been handed the fruit. 

"Food will help sober you up a little." Abraham explains, leaning against another post, watching the Major carefully. They simply stood there for a moment, Hewlett eating his apple while Abe glanced at him occasionally. 

Both of them wondered about the other, these odd feelings and new respect that had formed between them. The ominous light of the moon wasn't so scary when there was someone else there to admire it with. Edmund had been admiring the way Abraham's face caught the light; while Abraham had been caught up on how Hewlett stared at him, so focused and caring. 

Abraham couldn't stop thinking about it. Hewlett's gaze wasn't that of the hardened Major he had seen before. This was the look of someone who- No! He couldn't accept it! Pins and needles wracked his head as he tried to escape Hewlett's deep brown eyes. What was happening to him? Why was his heart pounding so fast? It had to be the tension between an officer and a spy, nothing more, nothing less. At least...

I hope it is...

Abraham withdrew away from his thoughts as Hewlett hiccuped, shocked to see he had eaten the entire apple, core and all. Edmund seemed pleased with himself, however, a big dumb grin plastered across his face. Abraham sighs, shaking his head. He didn't even know what to say anymore. They were both drunk, and Abe had to admit, he felt like he was about to fall over as well. It was a shock Hewlett was even able to stand with support from the post.

"You need to get back to Whitehall, if you're even able to walk in a straight line." He murmured quietly, making the Major laugh softly. He gave Abraham a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"I'll get back, walking straight or not. Unless you plan on carrying me." He jokes with a little chortle, carefully letting go of the post and taking a step forward. He almost stumbled, and Abe had to stop himself from lunging forward to catch him. Edmund smirks as he takes another stop, drunkenly confident as he started walking off toward the road. 

Abraham only kept watching him to make sure he was headed in the right direction, sighing and walking back inside the cabin as he was certain Hewlett could make it home by himself. He sighs, rubbing his face as he shut the door; heading over to his own bed and taking a seat on it. Everything seemed to be blurring together, and breaking apart. He didn't understand why Edmund's gentle gaze had made his chest pound, and his thoughts race. Abraham laid down on his bed, pulling his blanket up as he tried to push his thoughts away to sleep.

I am a spy.

He is a King's man.

That's all we will ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of you might not care, but I go through a pretty specific writing process when I write these. Typically I start writing either at 1-2pm, or 11pm. I tend to write better when I'm tired, for some reason. Sometimes I'll be writing all the way up to 5am, depends on the day and how enthusiastic I am about the chapter. 
> 
> I usually listen to music while I write; either without lyrics, or having a similar vibe to what I'm writing. 
> 
> My record for writing in one days is around 7 thousand words! Though usually I average 2-3 thousand a day/night. I'm very passionate about what I do. <3
> 
> And then- comes the proofreading. Oh boy the proofreading. Sometimes I forget just how much I actually write, until I run it through the text to speech app I have. (To help me weed out typos or things that don't sound right.) This process can take anywhere from half an hour to an hour, and sometimes I'll STILL have typos that I notice when I read these later. 
> 
> But it's all worth it for you guys. <3


	4. A Night To Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hewlett speaks to Simcoe about the location of "Samuel Culper". Anna reveals something to the Major that makes him happier than he could possibly express in words. Abraham has a revelation.

Hewlett groggily blinked awake, hissing softly as the light, a pounding headache making him squint his eyes. He groaned as he remembered just how much he had drank the night previous. He didn't remember walking home, or climbing into his bed, but he was thankful he was safe in his own room. Slowly he could recollect what had conspired in that beautiful moon-lit night. 

He had made a plan to kill Simcoe. Well- not by himself of course, all he had to do was rewrite a list of names, and hand it to Simcoe. Simple enough. He stifled a yawn, rolling out of bed and realizing that he was not decent. His clothes from the night before were strewn across the floor in a trail. He chuckles softly to himself, rubbing his temples as he looked at the mess.

"Don't drink that much again..." He made a mental note to himself, gathering his shirt and the pants, quickly slipping them on as there was a knock at the door. The harshness of it made him think it was Corporal Wakefeild. "Just a moment, I'm not decent." He says quietly, quickly putting on his uniform, along with his saber and tri-corned hat. He looked around for his gloves, but couldn't seem to find them. He hoped that he hadn't taken them off on the way home. He sighs, walking over to his door and opening it reluctantly. This business with Simcoe had to be dealt with.

Corporal Wakefeild was standing there, Hewlett's gloves in hand. The Major looked down at his gloves with a touch of surprise, wondering how he had gotten them. 

"Where did you find these?" He asks, gingerly taking them and putting them on. The leather squeaked as he pulled at them. Wakefeild sighs, starting to walk down the stairs, Hewlett following him.

"I found them in Richard's office." He explains. Hewlett almost sighed in relief, Wakefeild wouldn't know that he had gone anywhere last night. As they walked toward the door, the Corporal spoke up again. "Sir... I can smell alcohol on your breath." He admits. The Major swallowed. Shit.

"Ah, that... I'm afraid I needed a drink last night. A... very large drink." He admits with a soft chuckle. Wakefeild couldn't help but chortle as well, he couldn't blame him. Edmund clears his throat, walking into Richard's office. He still needed to write the list, he reminded himself; sitting down at the desk. He took out the previous list, starting to make the altered copy. Wakefeild seemed confused, still having the impression that they were attacking Simcoe.

"Sir, aren't we going to-?" He was cut off as Hewlett raised his hand, shaking his head. He kept writing with a small sigh.

"No... Fighting Captain Simcoe is foolish and dangerous. Instead, I've decided to try and lure him off. He's hunting a spy named Samuel Culper. I am simply making a copy of the list of names, which has this name on it... I'm afraid appeasing this beast is the only way to come out of this." He mutters softly. The Corporal nods, keeping a respectful distance as he patiently waited for Hewlett to finish the list.

Hewlett found that his mind began to wander as he dutifully copied the list, thinking back on Abraham's face the night before. He remembered Abraham's look of concern as his hand gently lowered the bottle he had been nursing. He wondered for a moment why he reminisced this moment, and others like it, gazing upon Abraham's star-lit expression. He appeared cast in marble like the grand statues of romans and greeks. Like a god.

He shook his head, focusing on the list again to shake the odd and intrusive thoughts from his mind. He had figured that his feelings had simply been a bit confused from the alcohol and the situation. He couldn't get distracted. Abraham's glowing complexion was just another image burned into his head. Instead he tried to think about Anna, a smile coming to his face as he realized this plan was technically hers. Her plan, which he would execute to keep her safe.

***

Hewlett leaned back as he rode his horse up the hill to the church, seeing four of his men tied up to metal posts with their shirts removed and their arms high. He grimaced as he saw Simcoe talking to his men, a lash in hand as he paced back and forth. The Captain was twirling it around with amusement, not seeming to have noticed Edmund yet. As Simcoe turned to face one of his privates, his gaze found Hewlett's, and he called out to the regulars who were strung up on the poles.

"Ah, it appears I can turn this pleasant task over to your commander! Major!" He almost seemed gleeful as he addressed Edmund. The Major sighs, glowering at the infernal man as he kept his hand on his saber, approaching the Captain. He hated the smugness in his voice, and the way he so nonchalantly waved the whip around. "I think you'll find submission suits you." Simcoe added with a small smirk, quickly hiding this after realizing his expression. Hewlett wanted to scoff. He wasn't submitting. Not even close.

"I didn't come here to agree to your terms." Hewlett began, stopping a somewhat comfortable distance away from the Captain. In all honesty, there couldn't be a comfortable distance with this dangerous man. Hewlett put his hand out, gesturing off to the side. "I'm here with a proposal." He explains, hoping that the Captain would listen and walk with him while he introduced his "proposal". "Please." Hewlett asks, watching the Captain look back at his men. 

He seemed reluctant to leave the bare canvases of his men's backs, eager to paint them with red. Simcoe was displeased, but did walk over to Hewlett, walking by his side. The closeness of the currently calm beast unsettled Edmund, making his heart pound. Still, he managed to keep his composure as he continued. 

"I've been thinking about what you said, about a third party playing us against each other." He began occasionally glancing at the merciless Captain as he walked past his bare-backed men. He wanted to avoid looking at them for the moment. Simcoe didn't seem to notice them as he walked, whip still in hand.

"And about that name, Copler." He says softly, thinking about Abraham. He knew damn well now that it was likely Abraham and his friends who had helped cause mischief between them. Even so, that would be done and over with if this plan were to succeed. Simcoe was quick to correct him, looking over at him briefly. 

"Culper." Simcoe corrected in a lofty tone, not skipping a beat. Hewlett had the unfortunate timing to catch Simcoe's intense gaze, his glacial eyes boring into him.

"Right..." He mutters, continuing to walk, heading around toward the side of the church. "Much as it pains me to admit it, you may have been correct." He admits, trying to avoid Simcoe's intense stare, still he knew he had to meet his eyes if he were to be convincing. Again he hoped the Captain couldn't read his thoughts. He stopped in front of him, facing the sunlight while the Captain's face was; appropriately; blanketed with shadow. 

"When I was first here, I compiled a list of tips from sources around the Suffolk County and surrounding areas. The potential troublemakers-" 

"I understand." Simcoe cut him off impatiently. Hewlett hated the way this man looked at him, peering at him with a sly smile and half-lidded eyes. His hair glowed a sunset orange from the light shining on it; like a crown. Edmund swallows, his tongue sitting uncomfortably in his mouth. 

"Well..." He realized that now was the time to pull out the list he had rewritten. He pulls his coat open a bit, reaching in and carefully removing the piece of paper tucked inside. He unfolded it gently, glancing at his writing briefly. He hoped this would work. "Look at this." He offered Simcoe the list, watching him take it and hold it open with one hand. The Captain read over it quickly, finding Samuel Culper's name nestled in the middle.

"So it's not an alias. Samuel Culper. Rocky Point." Simcoe looked up from the list, staring out at the town as he thought on the new information. "A day's ride east." His gaze shifted over to Hewlett, scrutinizing him. Edmund hoped Simcoe was buying the intel.

"I believe that we should capture him in a joint operation. Bury the hatchet between our two forces, get on with our job as the king intended us to do." Edmund says sharply. Truthfully, he had no desire to join Simcoe on this goose chase. Not only would he be in danger by going with him by the rebels hands, but also Simcoe's if he somehow realized this plot. Besides, he was almost certain Simcoe would shoot down the idea of a joint effort anyway. That had been the point; to express wanting a truce would hold true to his trademark pacifism. 

"The task was appointed to me, but I thank you for the gesture and for the information." Simcoe quickly shut down the supposed attempt at cooperation. "The Queen's Rangers will make sure that this instigator pays dearly. In the meantime, I return your men to you, for you to discipline them as you see fit." The Captain looks over at the regulars in holding. The Major watched the vain man walk off, and call for his men to get his horse. 

He sighs, wondering if this had been the right choice. Everything was going as planned so far, but how long would it be before something went wrong? Somehow he could feel in his gut that this wouldn't work. He chewed his cheek, thankful at least that the Captain had opposed the idea of a joint operation. Simcoe was a loner, and thought himself plenty capable to handle anything the rebels could throw at him. And for the most part, he was right; Edmund knew this.

Simcoe called his men to fall in, watching him head off somewhere, likely to prepare to take down their camp. He kept his hand on his saber, watching the Rangers leave in an orderly fashion. He wanted to smile, hoping that Simcoe would be riding to his doom. With any luck, his trip would be as damned as the man himself was. 

Simcoe was nothing more than a rabid dog. Perhaps his savageness was part of his strength. But at the end of the day, the thought of being the apex predator would be his downfall; underestimate his foe, and he was sure to fail.

***

Abraham sighs as he walked into his cabin in the dead of night. He had just gotten back from meeting Caleb at the drop. He had to give him the intel on the corrupted reverend that was a mole in the Washington's camp, and tell him about the opportunity to kill Simcoe at Rocky point, also involving their bully; Beekman. Of course, Rogers had been watching him with a gun pointed at him as well, so there was that... Everything had been going fine, until Anna had spilled the beans about him having to leave Setauket, and the regrettable information that Richard had sold him out to Hewlett.

Unfortunately, Hewlett was part of this whole plan. Once Simcoe was gone, he needed to take care of the Major. But somehow, he wasn't sure if he should kill Edmund or not. The risk of Hewlett knowing he was Culper was too much to bear. Simcoe knew the name Culper, Andre knew it too. He couldn't let his name be connected with it. Otherwise he was a goner, and his family would be at risk as well. Washington's camp was an option, but it was the last possible thing he would resort to.

He couldn't get Hewlett's shimmering eyes out of his head. The way he stared at him; marveling with how he looked for so long. He could tell from the Major's soft expression that his gaze was genuine... But in what way? Respect? Beauty? Love? He figured it wasn't love. The Major was drunk enough for his gaze to have been just that, a drunken stupor that made him look dreamy and elegant in the moonlight that was cast over him. He sighs, running his hand over his head as he laid back in his bed. His worst fear right now was Hewlett suddenly turning up at his door while Rogers was here. It was an irrational fear, but the worry was still there.

As he laid on his side, he looked at the embers of the fire, which were crackling quietly. He watched the occasional spark drift up the chimney; gracefully floating up with the hot air. A single flame danced in the coals, the light flickering in the room with an odd yet comforting uncertainty. He found himself calmed by it. Maybe he wasn't sure how to feel, but that was alright. He would figure it out later.

***

Edmund was relieved as he got back home, the candles inside burning dimly, almost as tired as he was. Getting his defenses back up had proven a bit more difficult than he had thought. As late as it was, he imagined Anna had already checked with Abraham to see if the plan was going well. He had to admit, he was proud of Anna. Her plot was working well so far, and he hoped it would continue that way. 

He took off his tri-corned hat and gloves before opening the front door, walking in and immediately looking around for Anna. For a moment he wondered if she had already gone to bed, walking down the hall and glancing in each room he passed. He did a small double take as he saw Anna in Richard's office. But he was relieved; he needed to ask her how things had gone with Abe.

"Ah there you are." He says softly, walking into the room and putting his hands up in a sort of apologetic way. "Securing the garrison took longer than I expected." He explains, setting his hat and gloves down on a chair as he walked over to Anna. "It seems our defenses have grown sloppy while the Rangers have been away." He hated to admit he hadn't drilled the importance of a good defense into the men. A mistake he was sure not to make again. Anna helped him take off his overcoat, draping it over the back of a chair as she asked a question.

"Has Simcoe left yet?" She asks curtly. Edmund wished he could say that the Captain had left that much haste. 

"He's been preparing his camp all day. I expect he'll leave in the morning." He took a deep breath, hoping he would never have to think about Simcoe after this debacle was over. For now, he had to worry about how Abraham's side of the deal was going. "What did Abraham say?" He asks, his voice hushed. Anna looked at him for a moment, seeming a little surprised that he had asked. 

"He said he passed his information on to his contacts." She says softly. Edmund couldn't resist trying to pry a little more. Perhaps she knew the ways in which the spy would pass on messages. If he could get his hands on that information, trying to intercept something would become easier. 

"Did he say how?" Edmund asks quickly, hoping not to seem desperate. Anna shook her head.

"No." She says flatly. Edmund was a little disappointed, but he tried not to let it bother him. Better luck next time, he supposed. Even so, everything else was going well.

"Still, it seems our good Captain is in for a lethal surprise." He mutters, walking over to the armchair by the hearth and draping his arm over it like a model. He looked back at Anna, who seemed... oddly off-put and or upset. Perhaps she was unsure her plan would work? He stumbled with his words as he gestured with his hand. 

"I-I thought you would be more pleased that your trap has been set." He explains, walking closer to her. He hoped he could comfort her with a little reassurance. She almost seemed scared.

"I--I'm just a little nervous." She whispers, turning away from him. Her voice was shaking, and Edmund knew she was worried. His own expression soured a little at the realization. "Now that it's all in motion, I fear--" Edmund couldn't stand seeing her beat up on herself, quickly taking her hand. Anna looked back at him in surprise, looking into his eyes with her lovely doe-ish gaze.

"It's going to work." He says lovingly, reassuring her gingerly. His expression was soft and caring. "It's going to be alright." He promises her, a beaming smile brightening his expression like a glowing lantern. Anna's eyes searched his face for a long moment, almost frantically. 

"Have you ever thought of... leaving all of this behind?" She asks suddenly, looking into his eyes as if she was trying to read his gaze like a book. "Going home?" She continued. Edmund sighed softly, he couldn't deny he had, as that would be a lie. But now that he was here with Anna, he only wanted to be here, with her. 

"To Scotland?" He asks curiously. Anna nodded, giving him a quiet "yes" in response. He let out a little huff, his body decompressing. "Yes." He admits. "Yes, I admit I have." He thought long and hard for a moment. 

"This war and my part in it have proven very different to what I expected." He almost didn't realize how close they were, hands intertwined and looking deeply at one another. "Whatever moral certainties that I naively entertained, have turned to cynicism... which shames me." He hated that he doubted what he had originally thought to be so moral. This business... it had hardened him. At times he wondered just how much of him had changed since he came here. But then he remembered the sweetness and love he felt for Anna. All of that doubt was worth knowing he loved her with all the certainty in the world. 

"Which makes me all the more grateful for you. You're a beacon, Anna, a light in the darkness of these past few months. You're the only person that I can trust." He poured his heart out to her, a sincere smile still lightening his face. Anna meant more to him than he could say, more than he could express in a poem, more than anything he could be given. She was his entire world, and he wanted her to know that. 

Anna suddenly started sobbing, her eyes closed with a deep sorrow she couldn't express. Edmund was somewhat alarmed to see her cry; realizing he may have upset her, or made her feel more important than she had in a long time. He gently held her arm, his other hand resting on her side.

"Oh... Oh, dear." He felt this was the right time to console her with a tender kiss, slowly leaning in. Anna looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes watery with tears. Her gaze was a calm sea he would happily get lost in, and he was already hopelessly adrift. "Now now..." He hushed, looking back at her with a gentle passion. He was hers, if she would have him. 

Before he knew it, his lips were pressed against hers. Edmund's eyes were closed, imagining a night under the stars with Anna, telling her stories and legends of old. He carefully shifted his hand to her back, pulling her a little closer. He felt Anna's hand raise to his neck, delicately caressing him. He wished he could stay like this forever, a calm washing over him as he embraced his true love.

As soon as the moment had started, it ended with Anna gently pulling away, her eyes still shiny with tears. Edmund smiles sweetly, reaching up to her cheek and gently wiping a tear away. Anna scoffs a small laugh, an embarrassed smile lightening her face.

"Edmund, I need to ask a favor of you." She says softly, her voice quivering a little since she had been crying a moment before. Hewlett gave her a little nod, taking her hands into his own again. He would do anything for her.

"Anything, my dear Anna." He says softly, delicately squeezing her hands. Her gaze drifted from his for a moment, seeming to be mulling over what she would ask. 

"If you can guarantee Abraham and his family safe passage out of Setauket... I would be very grateful." She says softly. Edmund was a bit surprised at the request. He wondered why she had asked, though he figured that she cared for Mary as a friend, and obviously Thomas was a child, and must be cherished. He sighs, unsure about Abraham... He had little to no reason to keep him safe. But he supposed with the deal they made, it was necessary to uphold it.

Abraham's face flickered into his mind for a moment, her eyes seemed to reflect his. He blinked, finding the intrusive thought confusing as this exact moment. Why did Abraham's caring eyes confound him so?

"I won't cause them any harm, I assure you." He promises. He knew it was breaching on his promise to the king; to destroy any conspiracies against him. But for Anna, he would break almost any rule.

***

The next day Edmund had made certain that his men were patrolling the main entrance into town. With luck and providence there wouldn't be news of Simcoe's return. He hopped off his horse, trusting one of the guards to hitch it while he took off his gloves and hat. He would have to tell Anna how things were going, and he was certain she would ask. 

He opened the door to Whitehall, not surprised to see Anna in the living room. He handed off his things to Aberdeen, who would put them in his room. As Hewlett walked over to her, he couldn't help but notice she seemed a bit distracted, perhaps even melancholy. 

"Anything?" She asks quickly. Edmund shakes his head, stopping in front of her.

"Not yet. The men are patrolling the main route into town and they're to report to me any news of Simcoe's return. Or lack thereof." He explains, his hand on his saber out of habit. He had been tense, and having his hand on his weapon seemed to make him feel better. Anna looked away for a moment in thought, glancing at the fire burning on the hearth. "I know this is difficult, waiting, but try not to worry. I have faith we'll hear the right news." He assures her, adjusting his grip on his sword. Anna seemed restless, shifting uncomfortably.

"It's not that. It's--" She took a deep breath, seeming to work up the courage to say something that had been on her mind for some time. "I never gave you an answer, when we spoke before about your proposal." She explains, her expression flat. Edmund quickly realized that Anna may have felt rushed to make a decision about this.

"Oh." He smiles warmly, looking up at her and deep into her earthen brown eyes. "I understand. I know these things take time." He says softly, adjusting his grip on his saber again as his hand waved in a shrug-like manner. It wasn't a big deal if she couldn't answer now, he would give her all the time in the world to think on it if he could; even for the chance of being with her. 

"I have considered it." She responds quickly, taking Edmund by surprise. He waited patiently for her response, wondering now if she had made a decision. His heart was pounding faster, his chest light with excitement. "And I do wish to marry you." She says softly. The Major felt his heart lift, and fireworks going off in his head. For a moment he was speechless, a beaming smile making him glow.

"Oh." He didn't know what to do with his hands, watching Anna grin at him. Her smile made him even happier, and he didn't know what to say. Thankfully Anna decided to speak for him.

"But if we are to live as husband and wife, it can't be here in Setauket." She explains, her voice hushed as her expression faltered. Edmund was confused, his hands miming this. Why couldn't it be here? She had lived here for her whole life, where else could they go?

"But you-- You live here." He stammered. Anna simply raised her hand, offering him a letter. Edmund looked down at it, wondering what the significance of this message was. He noticed the seal had been broken. He gingerly took it, looking up at Anna expectantly for an answer. 

"What's this?" He asks.

"It's from my husband." She explains. Edmund swallowed. Sometimes he forgot that she was married already, and he hesitated with the letter in his hands. "From Selah." She adds. Edmund started to unfold the letter, reluctant to read it, but curious. "He's in Philadelphia now and wishes to remarry. He's arranged to purchase a divorce, and has asked me to sign it." She goes on. 

Edmund listened to her as he read, his ears starting to burn hot as he realized Selah wanted her to admit the fault for him wanting a divorce. Due to the adultery she had committed with Abraham Woodhull. He hated how nonchalant the letter seemed, as if Anna meant nothing to the man. 

"The truth is I received this weeks ago-- and I've been busy pretending I didn't." She paused for only a moment to look back up at him, but Edmund was still reading the letter with irritation. "But now with things as they are between you and me, I just- I can't--" She stammered. 

"He's asking you to assume the fault." He says, somewhat disgruntled and disbelieving as he looked up at her. Not in her, but with Selah's conduct of carrying this out. How dare a man have the audacity to be so... heartless. 

"And to confess to committing adultery with Abraham Woodhull." She continued, seeming regretful and somber. Edmund didn't want to admit it, but the thought of a spy having her wounded him. It hurt to think that Anna would make love to a man who didn't believe in honesty and honor as he did. The image of Abraham making love to her seeded itself in his mind, and he grimaced for a second. Again Abraham's moonlit face haunted him, the ghostly light that swathed over him hung in his head like the drapes in the corner of the room. He might look away, but it was always there in the background. Still, he couldn't let Selah adulterate her like this.

"Well, we will not concede to this blackmail. Selah Strong is a traitor to the Crown and we can petition the magistrate for a divorce on the grounds of desertion." He says quickly, hiding the frustration in his voice well. He was already being blackmailed by Abraham, he didn't need to deal with more of it. Besides, this was blackmail he could beat. 

"Judge Woodhull despises me." She shakes her head, opposing the idea rather quickly. Edmund didn't think Richard did, though perhaps he had missed something important.

"No, not at all." Edmund reasoned, trying to convince her. Anna wasn't having it, she knew the Magistrate didn't like her. And if her forgery was discovered, he would only have one more reason to hate her.

"He holds me in no favor. And the truth is I did commit adultery. And I won't allow my shame to become yours." She says, her voice quivering as she felt awful for lying, and was almost starting to regret this plan. Edmund quickly jumped to her defense. There was nothing that Anna could do to make him feel shame. Anything that she may have done with Abraham, he was convinced Abraham had convinced her to make love. Besides, love could be spurred on quickly with the right motivation. Edmund knew that more than most.

"Anna, nothing you can do can cause me to feel shame. Nothing." He says firmly, closing the distance between them, taking her hands into his own. He needed her to know that. He loved her, and was proud of her for being who she was. He wouldn't change a single thing about her. Anna's expression shifted to one that was about to cry, but she took a moment to collect herself, looking up at him again with a sincere gaze.

"If you truly mean that..." She began, wondering now if she should propose the idea she was about to reveal to him. "You'll go away with me." She says softly. Edmund watched Anna's eyes well with tears, and he wondered where she could possibly want to go, away from here. 

"Where?" He asks in a breathy whisper, searching her expression once again. 

"To your home. To Scotland." She almost seemed desperate as she told him her idea, her breath quick. Edmund was calm with an odd melancholy. He loved Anna, but this plan to go to Scotland...

"But you'd still be married. We'd be guilty of bigamy." He points out, feeling a bit of guilt in his heart. He did want to run away with her, start a new life. But if he could, he wanted to avoid breaking any laws.

"That wouldn't follow us across the ocean." She insists, shaking her head as she put her hand on his shoulder, holding onto him as if he was the most stable thing in her life. "We can start a new life together." She hopes, a tear sliding down her cheek as she held Edmund's thoughtful gaze. "This is our chance Edmund." She pleaded with him, praying that he would agree. 

Hewlett considered this for a long moment, seeing how passionate she was about running away with him, and starting something new in his home country. Everything would be new to her, and for a moment he wondered if it was truly best for her. But with his love hazed mind, he didn't care. He would go to the ends of the earth for this woman; and all she had to do was ask. 

"Then we shall seize it." He vows, bringing her hand to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on it. His eyes never left hers. He pressed against her, hugging her gently as he realized she needed one. Anna wrapped her arms around him, clutching at his back. Edmund sighs, wondering how long it had been since someone had truly cared for her. 

He would protect her. No one would get to tell her what to do, or say she was anything less than amazing. Not even Abraham's blackmail would stop him from keeping her safe. 

***

The sun was shining down on Abraham and his land, the last remnants of the old cabin smoldering in a pile, while Abraham worked dutifully on building a new home for himself and his family, since he had no intention of leaving Setauket. He hammered away at a nail, humming a tune he had mostly forgotten over the years. He only remembered a line or two, his voice shaking as he pounded the stubborn nail. Thomas was copying him, hitting his little wooden hammer against part of the foundation of the house. Abe looked up at his son, a nail hanging out of his mouth, since the easiest place to keep track of a nail was between his teeth.

"It's a shame I can't remember, isn't it Sprout? Huh?" He asks rhetorically, watching his son smile back at him for a moment before glancing down at his toolbox. "You know, your grandfather used to sing that to me and your uncle before bed." He explains, remembering Richard's soothing singing voice fondly. He wished he could go back to those simple times when he wasn't worrying about war or being a spy. "And you wouldn't think it to look at him, but he actually had quite a nice voice." He watched Thomas listen, and wondered if he was even interested in what he was doing. Maybe it was boring to watch him work, maybe not.

"You want to build the house?" Abe asks Thomas, pausing his work. His son nodded yes, that adorable little smile making his heart light with happiness. "Yeah? Come on." He encouraged, putting down the nail he had picked up as Thomas walked over to him, also taking the nail out of his mouth. Abraham picked Thomas up, marveling at how fast he was growing. It seemed like he was heavier every time. "Come on, give it a go." He says with a huff as he raises his son up a bit higher. 

"See this nail right here?" He points to the head of the nail. "Give it a whack. Go on." He instructs his son. Thomas grinned, starting to gently tap his little mallet against the nail. "A little harder, like this." Abe takes his son's hand, helping him by somewhat roughly pounding the wooden hammer against it. "Right?" He looks over at his son, grinning happily as he kissed him on the cheek. "There you go." Abraham pauses, seeing a change in the shadows out of the corner of his eye. 

He saw Anna, standing just off the side of the road, seeming tense and pensive. He sighs, gently lowering Thomas and hopping over the foundation of the house to walk over to her. He had hoped he could go the entire day without have to worry about any spy business, but unfortunately this was a foolish wish. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he ambled over to her. 

"Any word on Simcoe?" He asks. He hoped that if there was news, it was only about his absence. He couldn't really tell from Anna's expression.

"He set off this morning. We won't hear for some time." She explains. Abe sighs, giving her a soft "all right" in response. Well, he supposed this news was better than hearing of his return. In which case he might really have to leave. "But..." Anna suddenly continued. "Whatever happens, I've just come here to tell you that you don't have to worry about the Major." She says softly.

Abe shook his head. They weren't going to discuss this again. If Hewlett had to die for the ring to be safe, then he would just have to bite the bullet and off him. This wasn't a discussion, this was a rule; at least it was to Abe. 

"No, we're not talking about this." He started to walk away, figuring that was all she had to talk about, and he didn't want to hear it. Anna spoke up again, persistent as ever.

"You told me to make a choice." She reminds Abe. The farmer stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at Anna. His own words echoed in his head: It's me or him. "I have." She finished vaguely. Abraham felt his mouth grow drier, and he looked over at the road, wondering if he was doomed. He wondered if he would be able to hear the trotting of a horse's hooves. Anna glanced to where he was looking, realizing what he thought rather quickly.

"There's no one coming for you, Abe. You really think I'd do that?" She asks softly, seeming a little offended that Abraham thought of her so poorly. Abraham sighs. This still didn't quite answer the question on his mind; what choice did she make? He paced over to her slowly, studying her expression carefully; though he kept glancing at the road.

"All right, why don't I have to worry?" Abe asks. He wouldn't be prepared in any way, shape, or form, for Anna's outrageous and sudden answer.

"Because we're going to be married," Abe was silently taken aback at her response, physically recoiling a little from shock. "Edmund and I, in England. He'll resign his post here, then we'll leave from New York." The longer Anna talked, the more confused Abraham seemed to get, his brow furrowed and his hands tensing in his pockets. "So you don't have to kill him because- he'll be gone." She finished, turning away from him and starting to walk off. Abe was dumbfounded, trying to wrap his head around why Anna was acting like this.

"What are you doing!?” He asks firmly, outraged. "Anna." He calmed his temper enough to call to her somewhat calmly. Why was she doing this? 

"I just told you." She responds curtly.

"Why?" Abraham asks with a steel tone, hands on his hips. He was irritated, angry, and confused. Anna was only going to keep giving him more infuriating responses, dodging his question.

"You wouldn't listen before. Why should I explain it now?" She challenges, stepping closer to him, as if to challenge him. Abe wanted to scoff. By leaving, she would be leaving everything behind, Selah, the ring, and him. 

"What about the ring, hm?" He questioned her, still confused as to why she would leave everything behind, to run away with someone he was certain she didn't love... Did she love him? 

"Townsend signals through the Gazette. I'm no longer needed." She says softly, seeming solemn as she looked down. She seemed to have accepted that she would run away with Hewlett. It was like she couldn't find any other option. Abraham began to wonder if she really did love him.

His mind flashed back to Edmund's sparkling eyes; reflecting the moonlight as if they held the stars themselves. He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep this image out of his head. Why? Why was he still thinking about this one moment like it changed everything? It didn't change the fact that he was a spy, or that the Major was a King's man. 

"What is this about then?" Abraham asks Anna, almost questioning himself about his own emotional conflict. Anna's lips pinched together for a moment. "Love?" Again he was almost asking the question to himself, sounding confused and conflicted. Anna couldn't seem to answer him, searching his expression; unaware that the question had been for both of them. 

"Why-- do you love him?" He asks again. Anna swallowed, trying to reason with herself on why she was doing this, to give him an answer that would satisfy herself.

"I love him enough... to save his life." She nodded, almost unsure, as if trying to convince herself that this was worth it. 

There was a long pause, Abraham looking at the dirt; reasoning with himself. There were too many feelings he couldn't reconcile with. Why did Hewlett's starlit face keep appearing for him? For what reason did his mind keep hanging up on this one encounter? And why had he thought of him when Anna said she would marry him? His thoughts should have been with Anna, remembering the love he had for her; not this sudden obsession with Edmund. 

He watched Anna walk away, stepping over the wooden foundation of the house as she headed back down the road. He sighs, suddenly feeling a tap on his leg. Thomas stood by him, looking up at him with that innocent little smile. Abraham wondered how long his son had been standing there, though he supposed it didn't matter. He gently set his hand on Thomas's head, fluffing his hair. He looked at the foundation of his house, wondering if he would be able to stay here, or if he truly had to leave. He pondered this as he walked over to the posts he had been working on a few minutes ago, picking up his hammer and a nail. 

As he worked, the thought of Hewlett bathed in the moonlight drifted into his conscience again; his face turned upward toward the stars. It was like they meant everything to him, guided him, inspired him. He seemed so calm, so serene and beautiful. The moon cast Edmund in a light he had never seen him in before, and he wondered what sort of light he was supposed to see him in. Was he supposed to see him only as a King's man? A Major? A scholar? A man? This inner turmoil was tearing him apart. 

He sighed, sitting down on the foundation with his head in his hand. He ran his palm over his head, almost pushing off his beanie. He felt defeated. Again he wondered why his mind was screaming at him when Anna had told him about her plan to marry Edmund. Why? He wracked himself for the answer, and finally his mind answered.

Envy. 

Not envious of Edmund for charming Anna, for wanting to marry her, and run away with her to England, where he would never see her again. No...

He was envious of Anna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright sometimes you just gotta chicken out of certain scenes, and a 2.5 minute scene with Caleb, Anna, and Abraham, is... Tricky. Typically I'd be writing it, but If I throw in every scene that mentions Hewlett, I'm going to go mad. ^^'
> 
> Don't worry, I add other things when I skip things like this! Mmm exposition. :P
> 
> Also goD dAmniT I caN't WitH HewLett's CutEneSs! <3


	5. Laws and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hewlett is outraged with Richard at dinner, and decides to be married to Anna in Setauket, while Abraham starts to reconcile with his feelings about Edmund.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I made an error, I think I've been saying Abe's eyes are brown, but they're blue... Whoops! Knowing this, I'm not sure if I'm going to change his eyes from brown to blue in this fic. I think I will. Just letting you guys know!

The light outside Whitehall had nearly disappeared, dusk washing over the home as the candles inside burned steady. Hewlett sat at his spot at the table, Anna to his left, Mary to his right, and Richard at the other end. Things had been somewhat tense in the home ever since Abraham had been revealed as a spy, and Edmund supposed it made sense. After all, Thomas was absent as well. The only sound to be heard was the clinking of forks and knives upon plates. Hewlett took a bite of his pork, looking at the potatoes and green beans on his plate; everything was delicious as always, though he wished for beef. It had been a long time since he had it here. Mary suddenly spoke up, shattering the silence with the mention of what the Major had been thinking about a moment before. He took a bite of his green beans as she did.

"It's so strange not having Thomas here. I hope Abraham is alright with him alone on the farm." She says softly, wishing she could see her son, and be certain her husband was alright. Hewlett looked up from his plate, the mention of the spy immediately bringing the image of Abraham's marble face to mind. He clenched his jaw, reminding himself that Abe was a spy; if only to save himself from corruption. 

"Perhaps Abraham should have considered that before he betrayed us all." He says softly, his expression deadpan. Really the only person Abraham had betrayed was the King, and even then; Edmund was almost doing the same by not turning Abraham in for the moment, not to mention he had helped Abe plot to kill another King's man. Though frankly, he saw Simcoe as more of a demon, and killing him might be seen as an act of god. 

"He'll do fine." Richard says confidently. Hewlett wondered now why Richard had turned in his only son, his first guess was to save Thomas from the same path. Mary was quick to retort.

"How do you know that?" She asks, her tongue sharp as ever. Hewlett could feel the tension in the air, it could have been cut with a knife. It was almost suffocating, a smoke that fogged the air with a dangerous and acrid aura. The Magistrate glared at Mary.

"Because I raised him on my own." Richard points out. Hewlett's eyes drifted to Anna as she looked over at Richard. "Abe and his brother after my wife passed." He continued. Hewlett wanted to grimace; it hadn't seemed to have worked out well for Richard. Anna picked up her glass of wine.

"Look how well that turned out." She adds bitterly, sipping her drink. Hewlett was shocked that she had said this so easily in front of the magistrate, even if she was right. The smoke thickened as Richard stared at Anna with disbelief. 

"I've heard rumblings there's a room available at Strong Manor. When exactly will you be depriving us all of your presence?" Richard asks with a sharp tone. Anna sighs, looking at him with a rather tired expression. Hewlett couldn't just let the Magistrate insult his fiancé like this.

"Richard, please." He says sternly, holding his fork and knife with a tight grip as he held his friend's gaze. Richard wasn't backing down.

"I'll be damned if I let this harlot speak to me in that manor in my own house." He spat, glancing at Edmund as he spoke. The smoke condensed, Hewlett firmly pounding the table with his hands, making the plates shake. He didn't see Anna turn her head, or Mary's unsurprised expression. All he could see was Richard, insulting the one person he truly loved.

"You will address her with respect, sir. And if you cannot manage to do that, then that will be our friendship ended!" The Major growled, his voice clipped and pointed. His friend's words were unforgivable, and Hewlett couldn't allow him to continue in this manner. Richard didn't seem to upset, nor surprised; rather confused. His hands settled on the table.

"Why are you defending her?" He asks, his hands gesturing with the question. Hewlett was seeing red now, and he quickly spit out what he had been wanting to say; though he had hoped that it wouldn't have come out this way.

"Because sir, she is to be my wife!" He exclaims bravely. His passion for Anna blazed through the tension hanging in the air, but it only thickened the smoke. Richards sharp laugh cut through the smog. But slowly, Richard realized the Major wasn't joking, seeing his furious expression. He then looked to Anna, now convinced this wasn't a badly timed jape. He swallowed, collecting himself.

"Is this true?" He asks quietly. Anna nods curtly, Mary staring at her in disbelief; she had to be kidding.

"Yes it is." She responds, and Edmund was quick to add to her statement.

"We're to be married as soon as possible." He explains. He looks over to Anna, and noticed her hand reaching out to him. He was quick to return the gesture, taking her hand into his own delicately. He noticed her hands were shaking a little. Poor Anna; he thought; she must be tense. They held a tender gaze for a moment, Anna still seeming a bit distracted from the discussion. Mary spoke up, hoping to clear some of the tension in the air.

"Congratulations, I hope that you two will find happiness together." She says softly, sounding sincere. Edmund was relieved to see someone seemed happy for them. Finally a little sympathy...

"Thank you, Mary. She makes me more happy than you can imagine." He declared, giving Anna a sweet smile. She gazed back at him with large doe-ish eyes, almost seeming somber. To Edmund, the room seemed clear of smoke again, it had blown away from the thought of being with Anna for the rest of his days. It didn't last long.

"So you've gone hand in hand with the enemy once again." Richard suddenly had the audacity to say what he had been thinking for some time now. Hewlett's heart froze with panic, making his smile falter and purse. How had Richard found out about his plot with Abraham? Had he overheard him somehow?

"What are you talking about?" He tried to dismiss it, pretending innocence just as Abraham had when confronted about being a spy. He now had empathy for Abe; feeling his heart pounding as he knew he would have to lie his way out of this. Pins and needles were wracking the back of his mind; guilt.

"Abraham. You've made some sort of pact with him, haven't you?" Richard asks sharply, making his suspicions known. Hewlett swallowed, his tongue sitting uncomfortably in his mouth as he tried to come up with answer. 

"What?" Hewlett managed. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? Run? Richard put his hands out, gesturing with frustration.

"I give up my own son as a traitor to stop my grandson following in his footsteps, only now the boy is back with his father who now walks free. Why?" Richard asks firmly, his own passion coming to light as the fire in his heart burned. Smoke was making it hard to breathe again. The Major didn't know how to answer, glancing at Anna as he fought with his head for a response. What possible excuse was he supposed to give? Was it over? This plan he had made with Abraham was falling apart before it even came to fruition.

"Because he's gifted you this woman?" Richard pointed to Anna with a venomous glare. Hewlett saw red, standing up violently from his chair, making it screech against the floor. He slammed his hands onto the table, shaking the plates again. A roaring flame was lit in his heart now, his fiery passion burning in his eyes as he stared Richard down with a heated scowl.

"That is enough Richard. This has nothing to do with Abraham!" He hissed, flicking his hand angrily. Richard wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, preparing to leave the table. Clearly he wasn't wanted. "You've only got yourself to blame on that account. If you'd have told me what you knew sooner, none of this would have happened!" He yelled furiously, making Richard stand from his own chair aggressively. He tossed his napkin onto the table, making the utensils clatter against his plate. 

For a moment, there was silence; until Mary quietly excused herself, wanting to leave the couple alone to reconcile with what just happened. Anna sighs, holding her head in her hands as she looked down at the table. Upstairs he could hear a door slam from Richard's room. Edmund took a deep breath.

In this moment, his thoughts stretched for an eternity. Anna was the most important thing in his life. He would protect her, and cherish her just as she was. Not in New York, but here in Setauket. He would show everyone exactly how he felt about her, without a hint of shame for what she had done. Nothing could make him see her in a different light.

Despite the tension that still fogged the air, his mind had been cleared.

Except, for the image of Abraham's etherial gaze. 

"We're not leaving." Edmund decides, his gaze fixed on the table; still deep in thought. Anna looked up at him, lifting her face from her hands as Mary's door slammed shut upstairs.

"What?" She asks in disbelief. She had heard him, but desperately wished she hadn't. Edmund looked at her solemnly.

"We'll stay here in Setauket, an-and be married here." He repeats, stammering a little. In all honesty, he was a bit nervous to be married here. About the judgment and whispers that would spread around the town. But he would endure it for her. He would do his best to shield her from it. 

"Edmund, please." She pleaded suddenly, seeming afraid. Edmund let his temper shine through in his passion for her.

"I don't care what Richard or anyone else says!" He sits down again, taking her hand and holding it tight. He needed her to know just how much he cared. "I love you, for who you are, and all that you are." Edmund confessed, seeing Anna's gaze fixed on his hands, holding hers. "And I want the world to know it." He affirmed, looking deep into his lovers eyes. He was somewhat surprised to see her so anxious.

"No. No, you can't stay. We can't stay." She insisted, her voice almost shaking with worry. Edmund was puzzled, wondering what on earth she was going on about. He wasn't worried about what people would say about them, he could take it.

"What? Because of your reputation?" He asks quietly, waiting for her response. She stuttered.

"Because-- Because of the d-danger." She said with a curt nod, hoping to convince him without saying she was concerned Abraham would kill him. She couldn't tell him that; she still had a soft spot for the man. "B-Because of Simcoe." She hoped and prayed that Edmund would listen.

"Yes, and that is being taken care of." Edmund assured her. This plan was going to work. He hoped.

"You don't know that." Anna still was trying to get through to him, but nothing seemed to be working. He was holding his ground.

"I am done running, Anna." He says firmly. Anna's expression faltered. "If not for you, I would have fled as soon as I came back from Connecticut. But you gave me the strength to stay on." He admitted, thinking back on his time in captivity once again. He remembered thinking of Anna during this time, cherishing her memory and thinking of what he would do with her if she was his wife. He knew in the back of his mind that he might not have survived without her. Without her, he would have fled for the hills of Scotland as soon as he came back to Setauket.

"It would be wrong of me to now encourage you to flee from your home, especially when I'm capable of keeping you safe... here." He couldn't leave now. Not when he had grown so much from this place, and what he'd been through. Now, the trouble would be working through this divorce Selah had pushed onto Anna.

"Now, write your husband and tell him that you agree to his terms of divorce and then we'll be married immediately." He instructed, knowing that Richard certainly wasn't going to help argue a case of divorce for desertion. He would have to find another magistrate to join them together. "Though we will certainly have to find another magistrate to do it." He looked away pensively from Anna for a moment, but his gaze quickly found it's way back to hers.

Anna sighed, sitting up from leaning over toward Edmund, taking her hand away from his. Edmund tried not to let a frown slip to his face. He knew this was a lot to process, and this evening had gone more sour than milk left in the sun. But he hoped; somewhat vainly; that the proverbial milk could be made into cheese. 

He would marry Anna, and he would be happy.

***

The cool moonlight mingled with the warm light from the fire, painting the cabin with a palette of blue and gold. Specks of dust drifted through the air, appearing like stars in the light. Abraham was tucking Thomas into bed, hushing him quietly as he did. With a moment of thought, he started singing, caressing his son's cheek.

"Fare you well, my dear, I must be gone..." He began softly, running his hand over Thomas's hair. As he sang what he remembered, he wondered what his father was doing now. He wondered if he regretted turning him in, or had he wished him dead? In the back of his mind he thought that Richard cared more for Thomas, his grandson. Abraham thought about his brother, the person he named his son after. He missed him, feeling guilty for what he had done to incite the riots wrath. That one prank he had pulled at the wrong time, in the wrong place. How different would things have been if those liberty pole riots hadn't taken place? 

His brother wouldn't be dead, he would be married to Anna instead of Mary, he wouldn't have had his son, Thomas. He wouldn't be a farmer, but a lawyer or a soldier. He wouldn't have needed to borrow money from Selah, or trade on the black market for a bit of extra coin. He wouldn't have been caught by patrolling boats. He wouldn't be a spy. 

None of this would have happened. 

His voice grew silent as the memory of Edmund's russet eyes flooded his head. The warmth in his heart could have been the warmth from the fire; he was hopelessly trying to convince himself that this infatuation with the Major was going to pass. The Law forbade it. Him as a rebel, and Hewlett as a King's man; and not to mention being a molly was illegal. 

Edmund's gaze was intelligent and thoughtful, and the more he remembered the deeper he was buried in his earthen brown eyes. He wondered if Hewlett got lost in the ocean of his own, remembering how deeply they had stared at one another. It seemed like they had an understanding of one another, an unspoken bond made stronger by a common enemy. 

But the Major loved Anna. Abe knew that she was getting all of the attention. His attention. 

***

Edmund was reading in his room, sitting at his desk with the play: A Midsummer Night's Dream. He thought reading about the star-crossed lovers; Romeo and Juliet; may have been bad luck just before his wedding with Anna. He smiled immediately at the thought of her, seeing her lovely brown eyes in his head. She was like the goddess Aphrodite, perhaps even more beautiful. 

He was startled from a knock at the door, making him jolt and respond quickly.

"Yes?" He asks, his voice a bit more clipped than he had meant it to be. To his delight, it was Anna's voice which responded.

"Edmund it's me." She says quietly. Hewlett quickly rose from his seat, at the door in less than two seconds. He opened the door with a flourish, putting his arm out to invite her in.

"Madame." He purred, stepping aside. Anna looked over at him in surprise as Edmund quickly pulled her in, planting a quick and affectionate kiss on her lips. She chuckles with amusement as she playfully scolded him.

"Edmund." She said softly. Hewlett gave her a beaming smile, finding the light in her eyes infectious to his heart.

"Oh, to hell with propriety. I'm too happy." He says with a proud grin. Anna chuckles at him before the Major spoke up again. "I know that you would rather be married in a church than here at Whitehall, but I thought to avoid speculation because of the gossip." He says thoughtfully, stumbling through the sentence as he tried to think of the right things to say. If he could avoid gossip, he certainly would; but he would shield her from it if need be. Anna nodded in affirmation, knowing he was correct in this approach. 

"No, no, you're right." She says softly. Edmund was quick to go on.

"This is about us, not them." He says firmly, reminding her that it didn't truly matter what they said. It was about their love, not the public opinion of them. Anna was constantly surprised by Edmund's growing confidence.

"Yes, yes I know. I just-- er..." She couldn't seem to find the words for a moment, running everything through her head. "Edmund, after the wedding-- I was wondering if we could go to New York." She wanted to be as far away from Setauket as she could be, and get Edmund as far away from Abraham as possible so he wouldn't get the chance to kill him. Edmund was curious why she was so desperate to be away from here. 

"To New York? Why?" He asks quietly, looking puzzled. Anna quickly tried to come up with a response that didn't involve Abe.

"Just thought it might be nice to be away from here-" She let out a soft chuckle at herself before continuing, Edmund nodding in understanding. "from them, for even for a little while." She finished, almost correcting herself. Hewlett gave her a patient smile, hoping to reassure her.

"Perhaps we can go to New York at some point, but for now we must see how our other plan has fared." He explains, wondering when he would get information on Simcoe. Thomas's voice downstairs made both of them look toward the doorway with surprise. Right on cue...

"And perhaps news of that has just arrived." He gave Anna a look as a signal that he needed to go, swiftly turning and using the doorway as a pivot point to swing himself around the corner; if only to get himself downstairs that much quicker. 

Hewlett spotted Abraham first as he came down the stairs, also spotting Mary and Thomas reunited. He watched the family exchange a bit of banter, but the Major was much more focused on asking Abraham about the plot. The spy and the Major locked eyes as Edmund reached the bottom of the stairs, and intense gaze shared between them; both of them remembered the night under the stars well. Though Hewlett chose to move past it.

"Abraham." Edmund acknowledged him, almost beckoning for him to follow as he walked into Richard's office. Abraham sighs, following him after casting a glance back at his wife and son. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, pensive as he stood before the Major, looking up at him. 

Abraham's eyes were sharp and thoughtful, taking in Edmund's softer gaze.

"Well? Any word?" Abe asks quickly, concerned that maybe something had gone wrong. Edmund seemed surprised, he was almost certain that Abraham had come by to inform him of the plan.

"No, no. I had hoped that you'd come bearing glad tidings." He admits. Although wishing someone's death was awful, with Simcoe it was a blessing. And right now they were praying for a miracle. 

Abraham was having a hard time looking at Edmund now, his gaze constantly drifting away. It wasn't that he didn't want to look at the Major. He didn't want Edmund to see the tender affection in his gaze that he held for him.

"No." Abraham blatantly looked away, denying Edmund from seeing his deep blue eyes. The Major's disappoint shined through as he spoke. He had somewhat hoped to see Abraham's caring eyes once again.

"Still, I suppose it's fortunate that we had this chance to talk." Edmund says softly, his eyes bright, with a hopeful light. Abraham folded his arms, turned toward the window as he listened to Hewlett continue. Now he could barely stand to hear Edmund's voice without his heart pounding, much less look upon him. "There's another matter which we need to discuss." He says softly, now hoping to talk with him about the fact that he and Anna were not about to sail for Scotland. Abraham was snippy, the venomous bite of jealousy still fresh in his heart.

"If you mean your wedding, I've heard the news." He let out a soft sigh, futilely trying to cover up the irritation on his face. "But since it seems we'll both soon be gone, I don't see what's left to discuss." Abraham says with a gruff and steel tone. He didn't want to talk about Anna. He didn't want to discuss Anna's marriage to him. The bitterness toward Anna was enough to make his voice sharp. But his gaze met Edmund's and now he was locked in, he could hardly look away.

"We are not going to Scotland." Edmund suddenly confessed, holding his hands behind his back, concealing them. Abraham paused, looking up at him with surprise, glancing down at his concealed hands. For a moment, he wondered if Edmund had something in his grasp.

"You're not?" He asks, almost in a whisper. Edmund nods slightly.

"Now that Anna has obtained a divorce, were going to stay right here." Edmund rolled his eyes, thinking for a split second, watching Abraham sway on his feet. "However, the only condition that Selah Strong gives is that she admits to adultery with you." He explains.

Abraham gave him the most puzzled look he had made in a long time, his arms folded as he thought about what the Major had just told him. Fine, they were staying here. Hold on- Selah requested a divorce? He squinted, finding that wrapping his head around this was more difficult.

"Wait... Selah requested this?" He asks, disbelieving and shocked. There was no way he would have requested this, surely. He honestly hadn't seemed that bothered at the news of it when he came back from being on the prison ship. Edmund nods curtly.

"He did." Edmund says softly, making Abraham search Edmund's expression. "And as a gentleman, I thought it only fitting that you should hear it before it becomes public." He says softly. It was somewhat regrettable that Abraham had to be painted in such a light for his marriage to proceed, but sometime sacrifices had to be made. Still, he hated that it would tarnish Abraham more. Even with him being a spy, it was hard to hate him after that night under the stars. He felt like he knew him better than he probably should.

"Oh, well, thank you very much for your concern." His gaze had softened, clarity setting in for what he needed to do. Edmund noticed this, blinking as he saw the flicker of kindness he had seen that night. His mouth was dry, and he was frozen as Abraham suddenly walked away. Why had his stomach done a flip from this man's gaze? He was struggling to solve the turmoil in his heart. He loved Anna, but this infatuation with Abe...

As Abraham walked away, a tiny smile lit his face. He was about to do something a bit dastardly, but he knew it had to be done. He suddenly spotted Anna, who was just coming down the stairs, and his smile disappeared. One glance, and Abraham knew that this divorce was a forgery. Something wasn't right, and he would tell his father about it. 

He wasn't going to let Anna have Edmund.

Hewlett saw Abraham pause as he saw Anna, then quickly walk away. He wondered what had just happened, if anything at all. Perhaps Abraham was jealous that he was marrying Anna...

***

Abraham sighs softly, running his hand over his head. It was past dusk outside, the horizon showing one last haze of light. He was about to leave for his cabin, but he needed to speak with Richard about this forged divorce Anna had fabricated. There was no way it could stand up to scrutiny, he had decided. Besides needing to speak with the Magistrate, Thomas wanted to see him before they left, tugging on Abe's sleeve insistently. The farmer smiled, picking Thomas up and carrying him up the stairs. 

"Alright, up you go." He says softly, smiling as he did a little twirl at the top of the stairs, lifting Thomas up. He set him down, his son smiling brightly. He was glad Thomas was in a good mood. He almost always seemed to be. However happy Thomas seemed, Abraham was a little tense, shaking out his hands before walking up to his fathers door. He hated thinking of him that way. He hadn't really acted like a father to him lately...

He knocked on the Magistrate's door, his voice coming back somewhat tired and boorish.

"Who is it?" He asks. Abraham was quick to respond, gently setting his hand on his son's head.

"Your grandson." He says softly. There was a long pause, and Abe wondered if he had been laying down. The door opened, and Richard glanced at Abe, before looking down to see his grandson's smiling face. Richard at least had the courtesy to smile back at him, before taking a deep breath and looking up at Abe.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asks, deadpan. Abraham was still looking down at his son, running his hand over his hair. 

"He asked to see you." Abe responds quietly, meeting his fathers gaze. Richard seemed too tired to give him any biting remarks, but the spy knew he would find some way to retort.

"And you indulged him, how kind." Richard remarked. Yep, that's what I thought... Abraham looked down to Thomas again, gently nudging his back to guide him forward.

"All right, one hug. Then we've gotta go alright?" He tells his son. Richard picked him up as he got close, hugging him to his chest; patting him on the back.

"So you thought you'd stop by and torture your father, huh? Twist the knife?" He asks, clearly bitter at Abraham, though for the exact reason why, Abraham wasn't sure. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. All he knew for certain was that he didn't want anything to do with his father.

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a father." Abraham muttered without skipping a beat. Wit was sharp, and both of them were fighting with swords.

"Then why are you here?" Richard asks, genuinely curious as to why his son was tormenting him. Abraham nods, thinking about why he had come.

Anna had decided that the best course of action to keep Edmund safe was to marry him, because she thought marrying Edmund after running away to Scotland was her only option. But now she was backed into a corner; Edmund had refused to cross the ocean, and now since they were marrying here, the divorce "Selah" had pushed onto Anna was under scrutiny. Well- it was about to be. 

Abraham had fallen too far to give up now, one way or another, he was going to have Edmund to himself. And if it meant bringing her forgery to light, and prosecuting her to the highest extent of the law, so be it. The lies would stop now.

"To discuss a matter that might interest the Magistrate."

***

Abraham sat on his son's bed, gazing at the fire for a moment, cup in hand. It's glow was warm, and the crackling of it was peaceful. But the longer he looked, the more the flames seemed... dull. Like they could be brighter, and dancing higher than they were. He got up carefully, taking the fire poker and nudging the logs into a closer formation. The coals needed to be together for the flames to burn the hottest, but too close, and the fire would wither and die, unable to breathe. 

Abraham couldn't get too close to Edmund yet. Close in too soon, and Edmund would fizzle. Too late, and the embers would cool. He had to be decisive about when to tell him about his feelings. Right after the wedding fell apart would be too soon, as he would be heartbroken by Anna; but waiting for much longer after that might be time enough for Edmund to forget his infatuation with him. Abe knew Hewlett felt something for him. The Major's eyes would have been harsher if he didn't.

If this plan to kill Simcoe succeeded, perhaps his chances-

A knock at the door made Abraham turn his head. He wasn't tense, as he knew it would either be Hewlett or Anna at the door. Either way, it would be about the wedding, or the plan. He set the fire poker down, still holding his cup of rum. It was the last of the bottle that Hewlett had let him keep. Or rather- forgotten to take with him.

As he opened the door a crack, he wasn't surprised to see Anna, opening the door all the way to see her fully.

"Ah, look who's here." He mutters softly, taking a few steps forward to be in the lantern light on the porch. "Have you come for a cup of sugar or do you need me to give away the bride?" He asks, somewhat cheekily, though he sounded tired. Anna didn't feel like answering the rhetorical question. 

"May I come in?" She asks calmly. Abraham considered this, remembering Thomas who was sleeping inside. It was fairly chilly outside, and Abe supposed she could, nodding as he took a few steps back.

"Just don't wake him." He warns. "Had a hard enough day as it is." He says, watching Anna enter before shutting the door behind her. He took a sip of his rum, finding the taste soothing at this time of night. Sometime a drink with a little bite would help him sleep. Of course, Anna decided to speak as soon as he was in the middle of a mouthful, almost making him spit out his drink.

"I was planning on telling you." She says softly. Abraham wanted to scoff, setting down his cup firmly on the table.

"When? After the wedding?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets, giving her a stern look. Anna sighs, shaking her head,

"I couldn't get away. Even now I'm supposed to be asking if you've heard word on the ambush." She explains. Abraham wondered if she had come here on her own volition, or if she had been asked to.

"And instead of that, you're doing... what?" He asks, shaking his head as he was unsure what she was going to say. Anna looked up at him, her voice shaking.

"Making a final appeal." She says softly. Abraham rolled his eyes.

"For Hewlett? You've already done that twice." He points out, gesturing with his hand as if to insinuate his point. He didn't care about killing Edmund, quite the opposite. He just needed Anna to not be with him. That was his final goal. Anna was quick to try and convince him that he didn't need to worry, convinced he was still going to murder the Major.

"I can control him, Abe, as his wife." She pleads with him, stepping closer. Abraham wondered if she was trying to woo him with her eyes. "Steer him away from you." She explains. Abe gave her a disbelieving look, his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted.

"You can steer him?" He began. Did she think Edmund to be some sort of puppet? There was no way Anna could possibly make him change sides, he was too smart for that. Not to mention there was nothing that could possibly make him change his stance from King's man to rebel. "Like a horse?" He asks sarcastically. Anna sighs with exasperation, now desperate to convince him.

"No, you know what I mean. He loves me." She says softly. Abraham sighs, knowing that much was true. He did love her, but for how much longer? "And his experience with women is limited." She says honestly, feeling a little bad that she had to put it that way. Poor innocent Hewlett would had no idea that she was guiding him. 

"Yes, he loves you. But I doubt you can change his coat from red to blue. No matter how hard you work at it." He says bitterly, starting to turn away. He wanted to be done with this conversation already. He was tired, tipsy, and on edge. 

"There's no need to be so coarse..." She began, clearly a little offended that he thought she was just doing this for the Major. "And I'm not just doing this for him." She adds. Abraham didn't skip a beat.

"No?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her as he turned to face her again. Anna was quick to respond, her tongue sharp.

"If you murder that man, you'll be killing a part of yourself as well." She implores, hoping at least to appeal to him that he was more important than killing his spirit. Abraham rolled his eyes again, bitter and angry. He wasn't about to kill Hewlett, not when his tender gaze was still fresh in his mind.

"Please, this isn't about my soul." He snapped back. Anna scoffs.

"And it's not about the ring, either, so don't hide behind that." She argued. Abraham didn't want to fight, he just wanted her to leave. He wondered if she could give him a cohesive answer.

"All right, then what is it about?" He asks, finally challenging her. Anna glared back at him, seeing the envy in his eyes. Though she couldn't see that this jealousy wanted Hewlett.

"It's jealousy." She said finally. Abraham scoffs, turning his gaze away from her. He wondered if she knew he was jealous of her, not Edmund. "Pure and simple." She continued. "You just can't stand the thought of me marrying him." She says, frustrated with him. Abraham shook his head. He knew damn well Anna didn't love him, not in the way she was leading the Major to believe. 

"No, no. I can't stand the thought of you marrying someone that you don't love because you think it's the right thing to do." He scolds sharply. 

"Like you did?" Anna shot back. Abe was a bit taken aback that she had responded so quickly. Touché... He was speechless for a moment, trying to think of a retort for something like that. Anna knew that had cut deep, but she didn't take it back. Abe rubbed his face.

"Anna I can't watch you sacrifice your future just to save the enemy." He says softly, hoping to appeal to her now, because he knew he wouldn't be able to scold her out of this. Even so, he had decided to end the wedding by law.

"He's not the enemy." Anna argued. Abraham rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. The Major was the enemy as long as there was the possibility of him hurting his friends or their cause. He wished Hewlett wasn't the enemy just as much as Anna did. "He may be on the other side, but he was born to that." She tried. Abraham snapped, through with this discussion. 

"It doesn't matter because you're not marrying him!" He yells, giving Anna a steely eyed glare. Anna blinks, confused as to why he seemed to think this was within his control.

"It's not your decision to make." She says firmly, looking at him with disbelief. Abraham sighs.

"But I have." He says softly, his tone solemn. He had talked with Richard, and told him his suspicions. He was almost certain Richard was going over the papers now, seeing Anna's forged signature. 

"But you-- what are you talking about?" She seemed confused, unaware that Abraham knew anything. Abraham let out another sigh. 

"I shared my suspicions with my father, that your divorce will not stand up to scrutiny. Now, he's a cowardly shit, but he's a good judge. He can spot a forgery from a mile away." He says gravely, making his plan known. Anna had made her plan with Simcoe. And now he had made his. Even though he wanted this wedding to be canceled, he didn't want Anna accused of a crime. 

"Call off the wedding now, before you're accused of a crime." He pleads with her one final time. Anna was staring at him with shock and dismay, her heart heavy as she realized this marriage was falling apart before it even began. 

"You've already done this?" She asks. 

"It's for you own good." He says softly, hoping she would understand; though he knew she wouldn't. And It wasn't just for her. It was for himself as well. Somehow he needed to convince the Major of his own feelings; make him see that their night under the starlight was more than a few drunken thoughts. Well, if Edmund didn't know that already. Perhaps the Major's love for Abraham was simply hidden by his love for Anna; buried far beneath the affection he had for her.

Anna started to walk away, heading for the door. Abe watched her start to flee.

"And yes it's for the good of the ring." He suddenly adds, pointing at her. He wasn't surprised to see Anna whip around to retort him, anger bubbling over.

"No, it's to deny me even a chance at happiness." She grieved, her voice shaking, it almost seemed like she was about to cry. "Admit it." She pleads with Abe.

Abraham stayed silent, his jaw clenched shut. He wasn't going to say a goddamn thing. This wasn't about Anna and her happiness. This was about himself, and Edmund. 

"If you have a shred of honesty left in you, admit it." She pleaded with him again, hoping to see the man she had come to love as a young woman. Abraham didn't say a thing, keeping his lips sealed as he stared at her. He wasn't sure if he had any honesty left. He had lied left and right for years: to Anna, Mary, Richard, Simcoe, Hewlett... himself. And he would have to lie again. 

Anna sighs, giving him a sorrowful look before turning to leave. Abe watched her go, standing there for a moment and wondering if all of this was worth it. He didn't know how all of this would play out, he wasn't even certain that Anna had forged this divorce. And he didn't know for sure that Edmund would confide in him after Anna was shown to be a fraud.

He would find out soon enough.


	6. Lies and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraham ponders his choices as Edmund finds out Anna had been hiding something from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to be crying while writing this. It hurts my heart to see Hewlett in pain, and writing scenes that were previously offscreen are just- painful. My poor heart...
> 
> But that is a curse of a writer; to endure the feelings wrought upon the characters we describe or create. To build these worlds, we must understand the trials and tribulations, the rules, the feelings it will give to the reader. Writing a story can suck out as much life as we breathe into the worlds we create.
> 
> (Don't you dare steal my quote)

Light filtered in through the window, split into beams from the mullions. It was beautiful, like the heavens had descended and were shining upon Abe. But the sunlight didn't feel warm on Abraham's face as he sat in the cabin. He sat on the bed, his arms draped over his knees as he bowed his head, looking at the floor in thought. 

There was no doubt the wedding was taking place now, and Richard would likely confront Anna about the forged divorce. Abraham wasn't sure what would happen, but selfishly he hoped for the wedding to be cancelled. He wanted to have Hewlett to himself; have his warm and tender gaze admiring him just as he did with Anna. 

His eyes were kind and caring, light with a sprightly youth from time to time. And that night under the stars, the way he had looked up at the sky... Hewlett had a dreamers heart, though he didn't show it often. However pragmatic he tended to be, he still had ideals of love and beauty. He saw the beauty in those faraway stars, cherished by so many and understood by far fewer. That loving gaze that met the stars, had held him for that tender moment. He ran this flicker of time over and over in his head, each time falling deeper into the fantasy of being with him. 

He lifted his head, looking out the window. Still it was a shame that he had to break Hewlett's heart for even the chance of holding him. Holding him...

It was the first time he had entertained the thought of holding Edmund. How would his hand feel in his own? Would he even dare to shake hands with him? Pull him closer into an embrace? He shook his head to clear the thought, his brow furrowing as he dipped his head again, running his hand over his hair. He couldn't escape these feelings, lost in the twisting maze of love.

***

The light coming into Whitehall was warm, bright with love and hope. Hewlett spoke to Corporal Wakefeild, his voice almost shaking with excitement. He couldn't wait for his bride-to-be to come down the steps and join him in the living room for the ceremony. It was a bit of a shame they weren't doing it in the church, but currently the church was being used as a garrison. Regrettable that it had to happen this way. 

He didn't seem to notice the ladies gossiping with their husbands, or Richard standing off to the side; looking stern as usual. He was looking at the world with love-tinted spectacles, blind to the speculation or hushed negativity in the room. Wakefeild tried to be as patient as he could, listening to the Major ramble on. He knew he would be relieved of it soon, and he could only hope that Edmund would spare his fiancé of telling her how beautiful she was every few moments. Still, the beaming smile on Hewlett's face was infectious, his heart light with a giddy and child-like excitement. Wakefeild looked up as he saw Anna coming down the stairs out of the corner of his eye, making Edmund turn toward her.

There she was, in all her beauty and grace. Everything seemed to freeze around Anna as she came down those steps. Here she was, walking towards him like the angel she was, a gift from the stars he cherished so dearly. He couldn't contain the smile that lit his face, walking over to his lover and eagerly taking her arm. Edmund almost felt like he was floating through the room as he met her gaze. For the moment, she was the only thing that mattered. Not the plot to kill Simcoe, nor the gossip, or Abraham. Everything was as it should be.

He lost time as he walked into the living room with her, lost in her eyes and the smile she blessed him with. He joined her in front of the crowd, and before the minister, one hand on his saber and the other by his side. He melted from her gaze, a smile on his face as the ministers voice faded into the background. 

Everything was as it should be. He was here with Anna, waiting to say his vows. And after that, they would have a lovely night under the stars, watching them cross the sky as the moon shined down upon them. Finally he would be able to hold her and kiss her unabashedly. He would read to her, and tell her all the stories of Scotland he could remember as a boy. He could hardly wait to live out the rest of his life with her.

"If any man can show why they may not be lawfully joined together, then let him now speak, or forever hold his peace." The minister said quietly. The Major barely heard this, simply waiting for the cue to say his vows. He let out a soft sigh of happiness as a smile lit his face once again. Anna looked back at him with her lovely russet eyes, caring and hopeful.

"I object." Richard's voice suddenly cut through the silence. His voice stern and calling attention to himself. At first, Hewlett didn't notice anyone had said anything, but quickly the realization that Richard had said something seeded itself in his head. He blinked in disbelief, looking over at his friend with a double-take. He didn't want to believe that anyone would oppose their wedding. But Richard...

"What?" He whispered, staring at the Magistrate with his mouth hanging open. His heart was heavy with pain at Richard's rejection. The crowd murmured quietly, whispering and gossiping. Edmund could feel cold dread creeping up his back, icing his skin and freezing him in place.

"As a friend I've tried to hold my tongue, but as a magistrate I can no longer allow this marriage to proceed." Richard says sternly as he walked over to the Major, his tone that of scolding a criminal he might be prosecuting. Hewlett tightened his grip on his saber, a flame starting to melt the ice in his veins. He couldn't allow Richard to spoil his wedding. 

"No, no, Richard, you've gone too far this time. Corporal, take this man and put him in the bloody stockades." He hissed angrily. The flame in his heart blazed with fury as he pointed at the Magistrate after gesturing to Wakefeild. Richard stayed him.

"Hear me out, and you may wish to put your bride there instead." He says softly. Now Hewlett was confused, his brow furrowing as he put his hand up to stop the Corporal from approaching. He wondered what on earth Richard was going on about. He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, hoping that whatever this was, was only a matter of disagreement. Anna hadn't done anything wrong, had she?

"The divorce papers she submitted from Connecticut, are false." He suddenly pulled papers from his pocket, now holding them up as he announced her shame. Hewlett's mouth was dry, as he listened to his former friend. "She forged the signatures, and I have taxation records from Selah Strong to prove it." He called to the crowd, humiliating him and Anna. Edmund looked to his dear Anna, wondering if this was true. She couldn't meet his gaze, looking away as her warm smile dipped into a frown. 

"Please, you are welcome to examine them." Richard was suddenly back, offering him a pair of documents. Hewlett snatched them from the Magistrates hands, not eager to see proof that Anna had lied, but he desperately wished that he could find something to disprove Richard's accusation.

As he opened the documents, he compared the handwriting and signature. His heart sank as he saw the clear differences, seeing that Richard's accusations had been correct. He barely heard Richard talking as the pain of deep sorrow pulled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. 

"So, if we let this marriage proceed now, the only result will be the sin, and the crime of bigamy." Richard's voice called upon deaf ears, saying what Edmund already knew. Tearfully, Hewlett looked up at Anna, no longer to be his wife. She was blurry through the tears in his eyes, and yet she was still so beautiful. But this lovely woman had wronged him. His face was wrought with disbelief and hurt. "Is this true, Mrs. Strong?" Richard asks firmly. Edmund could only watch as she met the Magistrates gaze. With some hesitation, she admitted it.

"It is a forgery." She confessed quietly. Hewlett wished that he hadn't heard those words pass her lips. He hoped and prayed that this was simply a bad dream, and not an omen of bad things to come. But the pain in his heart told him that this was no dream. This wasn't some sick joke his mind was playing on him. This was happening. The crowd whispered amongst themselves.

"And he made me do it!" Anna suddenly pointed at him, making Hewlett's heart pang. He felt like this chest was being frozen, a deep cold making his heart seize. He couldn't move, staring at Anna with anguish welled in his eyes. What..? Edmund hardly realized the word had passed his lips. He could only watch as everyone's gaze turned to Anna, and then him. All these gazes stuck on him weighed him down like cold steel chains. "I have no home, no husband, and he promised to take care of me. He convinced me to lie, and said no one would notice." She said, tearfully and convincingly. Hewlett could hardly breathe as she twisted his words. Somehow it had been his fault for loving her, caring for her, cherishing her above all else. He had loved her, and now he was paying dearly for it. He felt like his heart had been ripped out, subject to an endless torment as his thoughts stretched for an eternity. Like Ixion; the thought passed by; bound to a spinning, burning wheel forever. He wondered if this pain would ever end.

"Is that a fact?" Richard turned to Hewlett. "Major Hewlett, is this true?" He asks. Edmund's breath was shaking, struggling to get a full breath as the ache in his heart refused to subside. He looked upon Anna, fighting to keep the tears from his eyes. As first, she couldn't meet his gaze, but the longer he looked, she realized she couldn't look away. 

Her eyes were hopeful he would take the blame, and Edmund could tell. Now he saw he had been betrayed. She didn't truly care for him. She never truly had. Not in the way she had led him to believe. The illusions of happiness he had naively entertained, were fading. The nights under the stars, the stories, the hope he had held for her in his heart while he had been captive... 

The first time he had seen her. He wished he could go back to that moment.

But now her mask had turned to dust, she was plain faced with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Now he had only one question left to answer. Would he say no, and give her the reality check she so harshly needed... Or would he say yes, and believe that he had been the cause of this? Had he made her do this? He questioned himself one more time. All he could focus on was the pain in his chest, and the lump in his throat. 

"Yes." He says softly, looking away from Anna. He could hardly bear to see her face anymore. A numbness started to form from the ice in his heart, giving her the last act of love he had left in him. One lie he had to tell to keep her safe, at his own expense. He heard the crowd gasp, and Richard looked at him in disbelief. The only person who knew he was lying was Anna, and Edmund knew that. 

Hewlett gave Anna one final look, melting into her eyes a final time. He gave her a somber smile, the last warmth he had for Anna, one final act from his now frozen heart.

"Forgive me." He whispered, turning his gaze away as he started to walk out of the room, past the crowd who stared at him. He could feel their sharp eyes on his back, judging him, scrutinizing him. He had protected Anna from the judgement of the town, but at what cost to himself? His body felt heavy as he trudged up the stairs toward his room.

This cold was bitter and biting. It was worse than the freezing temperatures he had endured as a prisoner. Nothing could come close to the pain that this woman had just subjected him to. He didn't want to think about it, but he could feel the heartache. He wouldn't be able to forget it for a long time. He walked into his room, locking the door behind him before ambling over to his bed, sitting down with his hands in his lap.

He had a long moment to process, the tears that had welled in his eyes finally spilled onto his cheeks. Hot tears that left cold trails upon his face. His breath shook as he laid down on his bed, pulling a pillow into his embrace. He hugged it tenderly, like he would have done for her. He wished solemnly that he could have married her. But perhaps it was better this happened sooner than later. If not now, she likely would have found another way to rip his heart out.

Now all that was left in the frozen ocean of his heart, was the image of Abraham's caring gaze. He seemed to be one of the few people he could rely on, despite the blackmail and him being a spy. There was certainty in his oceanic gaze, and the similar hatred for a beast everyone wanted dead. If Abraham really wanted him dead, he likely wouldn't be breathing still. Taking these heavy breaths, if only to try and feel the warmth in the room. But it was too cold here. 

The light coming in through the windows was cold, and he closed his eyes to ignore it. He would have to find his warmth in the starlight tonight. For now, he didn't seem to have much reason to stay here. The thought crossed his mind to resign, and with a heavy heart, he gave in. He rose from his bed, wiping away the tears as he removed his coat and draped it over the back of the chair. He set aside his saber with a sigh, sitting down at his desk and quickly pulling out some parchment. 

He dipped his quill in the ink, sighing as he started to write. He supposed he should also write Wakefeild's new orders, since he would be leaving soon. He would make the Corporal the new commander of the garrison. It wasn't the most sought after position, for many reasons. Still, Wakefeild may appreciate the promotion. 

***

It had grown to be late in the evening, and Wakefeild had come by to check on him. He supposed the Corporal was one of the few friends he had left in these colonies. Though he didn't feel too bad he was leaving. He had experienced things in these colonies that he was happy for, and other things that he wished to forget. All of it made him the person he was now. Hardened, a hopeless romantic... Emphasis on hopeless. He couldn't think.

Hewlett finished writing out Wakefeild's new orders, standing from his chair and offering him the piece of paper.

"Your new orders. Details of your duties as the commander of the garrison." He explains, his tone deflated and depressed. Wakefeild looked at him with shock, hesitating with taking the paper. This wasn't at all what the Corporal had expected, and Edmund knew that.

"Commander?" Wakefeild asks, his eyes wide. Edmund didn't see his reaction, his gaze lowered.

"New York may assign a new man, but since you have already held the post when I was a prisoner, I would imagine they'll let you keep it." He says softly, finding a touch of bitterness resurfacing beneath the ice for his position. He felt like more of a target in this place. He would be safer in Scotland. "It's not exactly a coveted position." He admits, keeping his arms behind his back. He desperately wanted to hold someone, but for now he tried to suppress the urge.

"But sir--" Wakefeild began, hesitating as he didn't know what to say. However, Edmund had too much to say. Too much was on his mind, fogging the thoughts that truly mattered. The ice in his chest wasn't helping.

"I have written to General Clinton, informing him of my resignation, and my request to be discharged back to England." He voice caught in his throat as he finished the sentence, finding that his body had hesitated. Why? Why still was he unsure about leaving? "I am done with the colonies, Wakefeild." The pain in his heart made him pause for another moment, fighting back the tears. "I do not understand them. And perhaps never will." He says thoughtfully. The only thing he might have reason to stay for was Abraham. He walked over toward the window slowly, letting out a sigh as he looked outside.

"I had hoped to embrace this new world... but it seems the romance, as always, was one sided." He looked up at the sky, hoping to glean some guidance from the stars. Clouds covered the sky, blocking the light. He felt like his guide through life had been silenced, denying him the direction he needed to follow. The certainty he gained from the silver light was dim and bleak. He clenched his jaw as he realized he would have to make his own decisions now. He couldn't rely on anything else. The only person he could truly count on, was himself. 

His heart sank further in his chest, the frost spreading to the tips of his fingers. He clenched his hands, trying to gain some warmth in them. Someone to hold could bring that warmth back. Maybe he could only count on himself, but he wasn't alone.

***

The lantern on the porch was the only source of light coming through the windows, illuminating the cabin with yellow light. A fire on the hearth provided the heat in the cabin, but still the bitter cold crept in. Outside, frost crept up the glass panes; a constant reminder of colder weather to come.

Abraham was in a restless sleep, tossing and turning uncomfortably in his own bed. He had no way of knowing how the wedding had gone until he went into town or Anna told him. He couldn't be sure that Anna would stop by, however. If her forgery had been revealed, then she might not inform him. Selfishly, he hoped this was the case; though he had no desire to cause Edmund any pain. The only way Abraham could be with him was to show him the truth of Anna's "love". 

As he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but let the image of Hewlett's gaze enter his mind. Even with the stars covered by clouds outside, he could see them reflected in Edmund's eyes. He wondered how the Major was feeling right now, without the stars to guide him. Did he feel lost? Like he couldn't move forward? 

Something caught the light out of the corner of his eye, and he sat up, curious as he looked down in front of the door. He couldn't quite make it out, getting up and walking over to it, trying to keep his steps light so he wouldn't wake Thomas. There was a letter, his name written on the back very clearly. He recognized the handwriting immediately. Anna.

He quickly picked up the note, curious as to what she had written to him. He realized it was too dim to read here, so he walked over to the fire, kneeling by it and unfolding the letter carefully. He took his time reading it. There was no rush.

\--  
"Dear Abraham, it appears you now have all that you want or need, a clear path to continue your work for Washington. I, however, have lost everything else. I have no home, no husband, no man to love, or to love me, no reason to stay in this place I've known all my life. 

I can at least tell myself that I've saved a decent man from being the next casualty of your mission, though at the cost of his hope and happiness. You drove me to befriend him, Abraham. And when I did, you made me pay for it. And for that, I'm not sure I can ever forgive you. 

In some ways, I fear the man I once gave my heart to is gone for good. Maybe one day love, even if now curdled into bitterness and jealousy, will find you again. And if it does, then perhaps there is still a hope that this war that has already cost us so much, will not have cost us everything."   
\--

Abraham sighed as he finished reading the note, mulling over what she had said. Not about what she said of herself, but of Edmund, and himself. After that night under the starlight, he had been having doubts of killing Hewlett. And now there was no question in his mind that it wasn't going to happen. He had fallen too far now to even think of harming him. He regretted the blackmail he had threatened the Major with, and he knew it would be a lasting source of doubt for Edmund. 

The most alarming news was how distraught she had said Hewlett was. No hope or happiness? It wasn't promising... Still, maybe he could fix these wounds with time and careful encouragement. Aside from that, Anna mentioned that she didn't think love had been with him, like he had lost it through his experiences in this war. But he had found love again, a dimly flickering flame that perhaps had yet to catch on the person he admired. Somehow he would have to kindle the sparks between them, create a flame that could breathe and grow. 

A gentle knock at the door made him look over at it with a bit of surprise. He wondered who it was for a split second, before a saddened voice called out to him, like a whispered plea for help. 

"Abraham..." Hewlett called softly, his voice laden with emotion. He had already packed his things, and was going to leave in the morning. But he wanted to see Abraham one more time before he left. Maybe he could feel something from speaking with him. Edmund looked up as the Farmer opened the door, his eyes watery with grief; for the love he had lost with Anna. Hewlett knew from Abe's face that he was concerned. 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Abraham stepped aside to let Hewlett in, as it was quite cold outside. Edmund walked in slowly, his hands clasped together. Abraham watched him sit down on his bed, noticing that the Major wasn't wearing gloves. They were pink from the cold. Abe frowns, sitting down beside him.

"What happened?" He asks quietly, looking over at Edmund; he already knew what had happened, but he figured the Major wanted to talk about it. Hewlett took a deep breath, fiddling with his hands as he looked down at the floor. They were both subconsciously mirroring each other's poses. Hewlett wished he couldn't feel the cold in his chest, his heart beating against it.

"Anna's divorce was a forgery..." He began, his voice dying in his throat as the memory came back again, her words still loud in his mind. "She blamed me. It makes me feel like a monster for caring about her, loving her..." A hot tear trailed down his cheek, landing on his pants. He almost sounded angry. Abraham grimaced, glancing over at Hewlett's hands, then up at him.

"I'm sorry that had to happen." He began quietly, hoping the Major would look up at him. Finally Edmund did, his sorrowful gaze meeting Abraham's. In this moment Hewlett could feel... something. He saw warmth reflected in Abraham's eyes, a hopeful and caring light. Light to guide him on this starless night. Abraham could feel it too, a warmth in Hewlett's heart that melted the ice just a bit. Hewlett's hands clenched, trying to get the warmth back to his fingertips. Abraham saw the opportunity, carefully reaching over and setting his hand on Edmund's, innocently, as if to test the chill in his bones.

"Your hands are freezing, come by the fire, warm up." He tries to persuade the Major, walking over to the fire and inviting him over with a little wave of his hand. Edmund glanced at the warm blaze, deciding that warming his numb fingers was a good idea. He walked over to the fire, putting his palms out, quite close to it. Abraham decisively made him back his hands up a bit, so he wouldn't burn himself. Edmund sighs, a bit of confusion surfacing as he watched Abraham warm his hands by the fire as well.

"Why do you care about me?" He asks, looking over at the farmer. He knew something was up, but he couldn't quite place what. Abraham sighs, finding a bit of empathy for him. Pain like this wasn't just going to go away; it left scars.

"You just went through a tough experience, I can relate. You need someone to care about you, god knows Anna isn't going to." He says with a sigh. Edmund shakes his head, sighing softly.

"No not that-- I'm not blind. You looked at me differently that night." He says sincerely, wondering how Abraham thought of him. Abraham swallowed, realizing that he wasn't going to get out of this without an explanation. "All I could see was the tender care you had in your gaze... for me. The moon lit your face as if it was made of marble." He sighs softly, a solemn smile lighting his expression. Abraham swallowed, trying to think of what to say. That little smile was enough to make him melt. 

"I-I'm not sure how to describe it." He says honestly, thinking for a moment, hoping Edmund would start talking again. Quickly he realized that the Major was waiting for him to respond. He watched Hewlett rub his hands together, turning them to try and get the warmth to the back of his hands. 

"You looked at me like I was-- a statue. Like I was the night sky, something to be admired..." Abe explains. Edmund looks back at Abraham, that same look in his gaze. The Farmer's heart was beating fast now, and his mouth was dry. Why did he feel like this was an interrogation?

"You are. The only problem is that you are a spy, and a traitor." Hewlett began, his tone bitter. He let out a sigh, the touch of anger in his voice fading. "But I've been looking past that. All I can see is the caring man who-" He froze as Abraham took his hands into his own, his warmth seeping into his chilled bones.

They locked eyes again, seeing what they admired in one another. Abraham saw the idealistic dreamer who loved the stars, mythology, and poetry. And Edmund saw the strong hearted man who held him now, like something delicate and to be protected. Hewlett looked down at their hands clasped together. He could feel the way Abraham felt about him from this gentle touch. Abraham could feel that the warmth had been restored in the Major's hands, and he slowly took his hands away.

"I'm leaving for Scotland." Hewlett suddenly admits, making Abe look up at him in shock.

"You're-- you're leaving?" The spy stammered, feeling his heart sink in his chest. Just like that? Anna left him at the alter and he was just going to leave? No- no he had just gotten here! Edmund nods, a sad smile coming to his face.

"There isn't much left for me here. Anna was the only reason I had stayed after my captivity... And now I find myself wanting to return home. Perhaps I can sell my commission, find my pleasure in my books and studies just as I had before this war." He says softly, giving Abraham a sorrowful glance. Abe's brow furrowed with melancholy; surely there had to be something else he could stay for, if not him.

"Well- can't you stay here for that? I mean- you've got..." Abraham silenced himself as he saw the hurt in the Major's eyes. He clenched his jaw, realizing he would only make things worse if he tried to force him to stay. Edmund shakes his head.

"Whether I like it or not, I seem to be a target here. And the sinking feeling in my gut tells me that our little plan to kill Simcoe has failed. Of course- that feeling could be the heartbreak..." He let out a dry chuckle. "My superiors do not seem to trust me. And I'm afraid that what I know about you will only resurface if I stay. So I'm leaving." He says finally. It was clear to Abraham that Edmund had made up his mind. He was going to Scotland, period. No matter what he said, he was fleeing for kinder tides. Abraham had to fight back the tears.

"I understand." This was all Abe could manage to say. It was all he could bring himself to say without bursting into tears. Edmund sighs, standing and looking out the window. He knew he had to leave. Coming here in his uniform wasn't exactly the smartest call.

"I need to go." Hewlett says softly, his hand reaching for the door as he turned to leave. In one final involuntary plea, Abraham reached over to him, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He barely realized it had happened until Edmund turned to look at him, his hand still reaching for the door.

They both exchanged a glance. Something felt different with this touch. This connected gaze. What was this sudden feeling in their chests?

Abraham pulled his hand away, feeling that maybe he had overstepped his boundaries. The Major gave him a perplexed glance, but made no mention of the light feeling in his body. Like he was floating.

"It was nice to see you." Edmund gave him a curt nod, and Abraham returned it, watching the Major leave without another word. Abe peered through the window, watching him head down the road back to Whitehall. 

Abraham wanted to curse at himself for freezing up. He should be running down the road to tell Edmund the one thing he wanted to say. Those eyes had tempted him, and his touch had only sealed his fate.

"I love you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I realize that Wakefeild is a Captain and not a Corporal? Yes. Am I going to keep calling him a Corporal? Also yes.
> 
> The next chapter may be shorter than this one, just a heads up!   
> (*Ahem* It's a TURNing point.)


	7. Feelings and Forgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edmund receives a letter from Anna, unsure how to feel as he learns something about her he hadn't known before. Conflict stirs within him while in Scotland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! We're at the turning point chapter! This chapter will be shorter, but I'm sure you'll all enjoy it nonetheless!

Edmund sat at his own little table at Rivington's, men laughing and chattering around him. But Hewlett couldn't hear them through the haze of his own thoughts. He had just received a letter from someone he never wished to hear from again, and yet their handwriting, addressed to him, flowed like waves upon the page. Anna had written him a letter, and now it was in his hands, the red wax still sealing it shut. He didn't want to open it, but it beckoned to him. With a sigh, he broke the seal, unfolding the letter to reveal more of her pretty handwriting.

\--  
"Dear Edmund, I write to you with a heavy heart and against my better instincts, but write I must, though I supposed you never wished to hear from me again. If that is the case, I will respect your wishes.   
\--

He took a moment to think about this. Did he want to hear from her again? He figured not, but perhaps some more closure would be necessary to melt the ice in his heart. Things had ended too soon, and maybe closure was what he needed. He was still going to leave of course. He glanced back down at the letter, picking it back up where he left off.

\--  
I owe you an explanation so that this gaping wound can, if not be healed, then at least be closed. Such sorrow, however, cannot be conveyed through the post. I beg the opportunity to come to New York and speak to you in person."  
\--

He almost wanted to scoff. What more explanation was there? She had forged the divorce, and stuck the blame on him. And perhaps, like a fool, he had taken it. He chewed his cheek, wondering if he should bother to invite her to New York. His heart weighed heavy with the deep cold he had felt with her betrayal. A numbness that even now he couldn't seem to shake. That moment with Abraham had been the only brief respite.

Maybe seeing her one last time would settle this odd conflict in his head. There was uncertainty he still had about going to Scotland, but he still couldn't pin what it was. 

He glanced over to the rowdy officers at the table by the bar, watching them jeer and toast. Swiftly, he took his hat under his arm and made for the exit, tucking Anna's letter into his coat. He put his hat on just before leaving the tavern, stifling a shudder at the chill breeze that ran through him. He could only see this going badly, but if he could close this wound Anna had caused, he would try anything. 

***

It was a few days later, the sunlight outside had faded, but the street lamps and candlelight lit the city enough. Hewlett sat at his table, a bottle of Madeira by his side. Things had wound down from the chatter of mid-day, and people were talking quietly all around him. He barely noticed, staring off into space as he mindlessly day dreamed about going home, and having a book in hand. Not only that, but frequently thoughts of Anna interrupted his visions. He wished she would just leave his thoughts.

"Major Hewlett, there's a young lady who bears a pass with your signature." Rivington almost seemed to appear behind him, making Hewlett snap out of his thoughts to look at him. It took Edmund a second to realize what he said, turning in his chair to look behind Rivington. He saw Anna, looking at him with those large doe-ish eyes. He turned back in his seat, letting out a soft sigh as he tried to find a comfortable spot for his tongue. The last thing he had wanted was to speak with this woman. His heart already heavy with the reminder of what she did.

"If you won't admit her, may I?" Rivington asks with a little simper. Hewlett was again distracted, but sort of motioned with his head as a "yes". He could hear her shoes padding across the floor, her gait familiar to him. He clenched his jaw, the ice in his chest was flaring up again, and yet his ears felt hot. Still, he had to face this as calmly as he could. He didn't want to make a scene. He put his hands on the table, pushing himself up to a standing position as Anna walked around him, standing before him. His gaze slowly met hers. He hated it.

"Major Hewlett." She addressed him quietly, being professional. Gone was the affection from before the wedding.

"Mrs. Strong." He responded, looking away as she started talking again. His heart was pounding against the numbness in his chest. This pain was still bitter, and sharp. 

"May we speak privately?" She asks. Hewlett reluctantly met her gaze once more. He was already bored of this interaction.

"Anything you have to say to me can be said here." He says bluntly, flipping his coattails up to sit. He watched Anna hesitate, and then pull her chair out to take a seat. He stared at her as she removed her cloak, his glass of madeira in hand as he waited for her to say something else. He wondered what else she would say to break his heart. She seemed tense.

"You look well." Anna says softly. Hewlett wanted to scoff at the abysmal attempt of small talk. How could she possibly think he looked well after what she had done to him?

"Well, looks can be deceiving, as you know." He says bitterly, tapping his finger against his cup impatiently. He watched Anna hesitate once again, wondering where she was going to go with this conversation. It seemed to him like anything she could say would only make things that much worse between them. He supposed he should explain what he was going to do, perhaps she didn't know.

"I'm still an officer, but it's merely a formality. I'll be cashiered once I make it back to England." He says quickly, finding a hidden stab of bitterness again, making him wince. Anna didn't seem to know what to say for the moment, her lips stuttering as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words.

"It-- It wasn't my aim to disgrace you." She says, stammering through her sentence. Hewlett huffs. He had heard that Simcoe had returned back to Setauket. Their little plan had failed, just as he thought it had. He wondered now if it had been her aim all along to betray him, to break his heart so he would leave.

"Yes, it was. In order to save me." He says, with a bit of lip. He sighs, looking down at his glass of madeira, considering taking a sip. He was a little tipsy; he wouldn't have been able to tolerate this encounter otherwise. "You knew that the judge would challenge the authenticity of the divorce." He accused, narrowing his eyes at her as a question came to mind. "How did you know I would take the blame?" He asks boldly, finding the courage in himself to challenge her. He could see her racing for the answer in her head. Was she going to lie? 

"Because of who you are." She admitted. Ah... So it had been because she knew he was weak. He was pliant, like a young sapling subject to bend with the slightest gust of wind. The kind of man who couldn't beat a snarling beast.

"The kind of man who can't beat Simcoe." He suggested bitterly. He knew that was what she was thinking, even if she wouldn't admit it. 

"No." She denied the thought quickly.

"I could have taken him. I've taken him before." Hewlett says softly, remembering his time in captivity once again. For a split second, he remembered the fear. He remembered the adrenaline pumping in his veins after he had fled; the urge to survive and run. He would have fought Simcoe had he been more prepared.

"I wasn't protecting you from Simcoe." She says quickly, shaking her head. Edmund looked up at her again, staring daggers into her. "It was Abraham." She blurted. 

Edmund blinked, wondering what on earth she was going on about. Abraham? He had been nothing but kind. Well- aside from the initial blackmail. But then again, that was understandable. He had been pointing a gun at his face. Still, why would he need to be protected from Abraham?

"He was plotting to kill you." She says softly. Edmund's brow furrowed slightly as he felt a slight twinge of fear. Abraham try to kill him? Surely not... Abraham had the perfect opportunity to do so when they were drinking together. He could barely stand, and yet Abraham had only seemed to care for him. He even tried to sober him up. There was no way this could be true. In which case, she was likely trying to trick him. Again. Trying to make him feel like she was innocent, when she most certainly was not. He wasn't going to be played for a fool again. Still, he would try and call her bluff.

"Why didn't you warn me?" He asks quickly, hoping to catch her in a lie. Any answer she might have would be heinous. He knew that.

"Because I was a spy, too." She confessed. Somehow this was worse than anything she could have said. So, she wasn't innocent. Now he began to wonder why she was sent here. She couldn't possibly have come to New York only wanting to see him. She couldn't come here without a pass, and was likely trying to weasel her way into information. He fiddled with his cup in his hands pensively. 

"I had to choose between the two of you, and I found a third way." She continued. The more she talked, the more Edmund wanted to leave the table. He didn't want to hear anything she had to say, but he didn't have much choice but to listen. At this point, he only needed answers as to why she had done all of this.

"I figured it was better for you to fall on your own sword, than to perish from his." She explains. Hewlett set down his cup angrily. It was nearly empty anyway, and he likely didn't need any more alcohol for the night. Some of it still hadn't caught up with him. She had played him for a fool. She knew it, and he knew it...

"You've played me for a fool." He felt insulted, and his tone reflected as much, even if his voice was hushed so as not to draw attention to himself. When Anna had swam back to shore after the bloody battle with the rebels, he had originally thought it to be a gesture of loyalty. "When you jumped out of that boat, I thought it was out of loyalty." 

"It was, for my country. And, for Abe." She admits shakily, her eyes shiny with tears. Edmund didn't want to hear her sob story. After all, she had made one out of him. And now, an odd weight pulled at his heart as Abraham's name passed her lips in such a heartfelt manner. 

"At first, I encouraged your affections to protect him. But as you and I grew closer, I discovered you were a man of honor, of intellect, of kindness." Everything she said to him almost seemed an insult. Why did he feel such bitter hatred toward her voice, when before it had brought him such joy? Well, it only shocked him that these feelings could change so quickly. He felt used, and he wondered if Anna knew how he felt. She was only twisting the knife further into his heart. Finally he asked the question:

"Why did you come here?" He asks quietly, wondering why she had come to New York to ask him this. Besides breaking his heart into smaller pieces, of course. What information could she possibly have to gain here?

"To give you the truth. You deserve it." She began. Edmund was through with the flowery confessions and her lying tongue.

"I mean, why were you sent?" His voice was clipped and sharp. He didn't want more lies and hurtful words. Things that only made him feel like more of an idiot. Anna seemed lost for words for a moment.

"Look around Edmund. You could have me arrested." She says softly. Edmund knew that much was true, and for a second he wondered why he shouldn't just call the guards in now. "I chose to tell you this on my own accord, and against my orders. Because I cannot tell another lie to a man who never lied to me." Her voice had climbed in volume, and tears welled in her eyes. He wasn't sure if she was being genuine. But if she was, he decided to test one thing. Something he had wondered just after she had betrayed him. It was a bastard of a question, but he had to ask.

"Did you ever love me?" He asks, his tone cold and biting. Anna hesitated for a long moment, and he knew the next answer out of her mouth would either be a lie, or avoiding his question. 

"When I proposed we leave America and marry, I meant that." She says softly. Edmund clenched his jaw. He was through with this game. 

"Answer my question." He demanded. "Did you ever love me?" He drew out the question, to be certain there was no mistake of what she heard. He wouldn't accept anything less than a definitive answer. Anna stared back at him, tears of guilt and sorrow ready to spill onto her cheeks. She shook her head, a glistening tear dripping down as she dipped her head in shame. Edmund let out a sigh. He had already known the answer of course. A part of him still hadn't wanted to believe it. Slowly he tried to make sense of why she had tried this ploy to marry him. Perhaps she had wanted to make Abraham jealous, a part of her still loving him.

"We were both swept up by our passions. I by my infatuation with you, and you by your love for a married man." He tried to leave her with some kind words, however he badly wanted to leave her as bitter and broken as she had left him. "It is good that you have quit Abraham." But still, the finality of this required him to leave her for good. There was no turning back.

"Now I must quit you." He says softly, deciding that this was his cue to leave. Hewlett had nothing left to say to Anna, and he didn't wish to hear anything more from her. He rose from his chair, quickly turning to leave. He stumbled a bit with his footing, a bit more tipsy than he had measured out earlier. He wasn't looking back now. Nothing could make him do that. Not for Anna.

Even now, there was a bitterness in his heart for her that wouldn't subside. Part of him wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt him. There was no warmth left in him for her; that had long since frozen over. 

***

Edmund walked down the road to Major Andre's home, his boots thudding on the brick beneath his feet. The ambiance of the city was in full swing, couples walking side by side, carriages going by. All of it was white noise now. He had been in New York for over a month now, and was leaving for England soon. 

Hewlett would make one last stop however, just to drop off some information. He figured it would be nice to pay the Head of Intelligence a visit. He remembered with a hint of sourness how Andre had refused the information he had offered to him; regarding Abraham and the Sons of Liberty. Well, now he had something else to share, a contradiction to this information he had been about to offer. Everything about the Sons of Liberty had been false, he knew this now. Still, now he had a clear head to give him something he knew was valuable.

Edmund knocked on Andre's door firmly, hoping he was home. The door opened very quickly, Abigail standing there. She smiled at him politely, walking back inside to tell Andre he was at the door. Hewlett let himself in, standing by the door as he waited to be invited in.

"Sir, you have a caller." He heard Abigail call to the Intelligence Major. 

"Not again, send her away." Andre muttered, seeming tired and annoyed. Hewlett wondered who had been calling him so often as to annoy him, clearly someone important. 

"It's Major Hewlett, sir." Abigail explains patiently. Hewlett chewed his lip, wondering how long he would have to wait here.

"Who?" Andre seemed confused. Hewlett almost wanted to scoff. He had to be joking... This was degrading.

"Major Hewlett, from Setauket." She says softly, ever so patient and sweet. Hewlett was surprised she could put up with him. The man seemed far too up his own ass.

"Tell him I'm too busy to receive him." Andre responded quickly. Well, that was the final straw. He quickly stepped out of hiding, walking into his study with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Abigail, tell the Major it should only take a moment and would be well worth his time to reconsider." He says, hiding the bitterness in his voice as he watched Andre fiddle with some papers, and then reluctantly step away from them. Oh pity, was he interrupting something important? Abigail let them be, going off somewhere, likely to clean.

"My apologies, Edward. I didn't know you were in York City." He says, not seeming sorry in the slightest from his bored tone. Now Hewlett wondered if the pompous Major had experienced heartbreak of his own recently. Then again, he couldn't really find it in himself to care, closing the door to get some margin of privacy.

"Edmund, and I've been here for over a month now." He corrects, shutting the door a bit harder than he needed to, just to vent a little steam. He began pacing over to Andre, watching him run through a few things in his head. He seemed in a hurry.

"Yes, of course. It's just that I'm on the way out." Andre explains, walking over toward Hewlett to talk to him more face to face. Oh, perfect timing, he was leaving as well. Seemed they both had things to sort out...

"So am I. My ship leaves for England tomorrow morning." He explains. Andre tilted his head with a bit of confusion. Clearly they were leaving for different places, and for different reasons. Somewhat cheekily, he decided to add: "I see your bloodhound Captain Simcoe has not made you aware of this, likely because he intends to see me off in his own way." He remembered the condescending letter Andre had sent him, and thinking that perhaps Simcoe had tainted his relations with him. What other explanation could there be? 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Andre responded, his brow furrowed. Hewlett sighs. He was either denying it, or he truly didn't know. He figured it was the latter. Still, he figured it was time to spill what Andre likely wanted to know, but never bothered to ask. 

"Well you should be. Afraid, that is, of what you don't know." Edmund glanced down at the floor, slowly taking a seat; not bothering to flip up his coattails this time. "Take for instance, the rebel spy that has been operating right under your nose." He spotted the bottle of madeira on the table, quickly reaching forward to pour himself a glass. 

"May I?" He asks, not bothering to wait for an answer. He could hear Andre's irritation from the way he drew a breath, almost hissing through his teeth. 

"I know all about that. My bloodhound, as you call him, is out hunting for Robert Rogers as we speak. Now, I really must be going." He says quickly, starting to rush off. Hewlett shakes his head. How could this man be in such a hurry? He had to stop him before he had the chance to run away.

"Rogers is not Culper." Edmund responds quickly, sitting back in his chair and taking a slow sip of his drink. He was glad it was high quality, he really needed a drink. Andre turned back to face him, seeming confused and agitated. No surprise there. All of this seemed to be new to him; but honestly, who in their right mind would think Rogers was Culper? One look at the man could tell you that.

"Though I do believe you are familiar with the person who really is." He says vaguely, downing his glass and pouring himself another cup. Andre glared at him. Was it supposed to make him tell him faster?

"Who?" Andre demanded the answer. Hewlett wasn't intimidated by the suddenly domineering voice, bringing his glass to his lips and eagerly downing it again. He kept his mouth shut, watching the Intelligence Major approach him slowly. "You've been in the city for more than a month." He was only a pace or two away now, towering over where Hewlett sat. "Why have you waited till now, to communicate this?" He asks, clearly trying to keep his voice calm as anger boiled over within him. Hewlett sighs. It wasn't a requirement that he tell Andre everything immediately. Besides, he figured it wasn't treason as long as he told someone in the end. 

"Every subject's duty is the King's. But every subjects soul is his." He didn't ow anyone anything, as far as he saw it. Too much had been taken from him during this war, including his heart. He looked up at Andre defiantly. 

"I've been in the city for over a month and not once have you invited me to dine." He began, bitterness rising in his heart as he remembered everything he had gone through in the pursuit of his duty as a King's man. "I have offered my services time and again, and have been met with silence." He now remembered the name Simcoe had called him just before he had been bound and gagged during the Battle of Setauket. "You have never listened to the Oyster Major before, and I doubt that you will start now." He took a deep breath. Despite his bitterness, he still had a job to do, and a debt to repay.

"But that, sir, will not stop me from doing my duty... one last time." He glanced down at his glass, bringing it to his lips to get the last few drops that had pooled at the bottom of the cup. He stood, setting the glass down on the table as he met Andre face to face. 

"Culper is a woman named Anna Strong." Edmund began. This was it. This was his final act before leaving for England. He knew damn well that Abraham was Culper, but he couldn't find it in himself to pin the blame on him. Anna was far more deserving of this accusation, especially after the pain she had caused him. He wondered if she would ever see the punishment that came with it. Likely not. She had probably fled to Washington's camp by now. 

"If I'm not mistaken, she attended one of your exclusive little dinner parties..." He faced toward the dining room, gesturing to it with a little wave of his hand. "Right here." He watched Andre look over to the room, recollecting the event. Edmund couldn't help but let a cheeky smile come to his face as he realized this was probably his cue to leave.

"God save the king." He says softly, leaving Andre with that little nugget of false information. He could almost hear the cogs turning in Andre's head, wondering how on earth he could have let something like this slip through his fingers. He wondered what he thought of Culper being a "woman". He smiled to himself deviously, leaving the room, and then the home. 

He took a deep breath as he left Andre's house, walking down the steps with a sense of relief. The ice in his heart seemed to melt away, and for first time in a long while, he felt a sense of warmth. He released the breath he had been holding, grinning as he walked down the street; a pep in his step, and a grin brightening his expression. He had never felt more free.

Now all that was left was to return to his home.

***

Edmund had his telescope set up on the grass by the Tay river, the street lamps of Dundee visible in the distance. Scotland's air seemed much cleaner to him, and the stars shone brilliantly against the midnight sky. He could see the cosmos spreading across the sky in a shimmering white band. It was the most beautiful thing he could imagine, and here it was, right in front of him. He peered through his telescope, looking at the stars as he tried to clear his head.

He had tried to sell his commission, but no one seemed to want to buy into a losing war. Some people had even laughed at him. He had visited his family, and bought some books to fill his head with stories, and myths, and tales of grandeur. But they weren't going to make him happy on their own. Somehow he felt like Icarus. He had tried to fly too far, too fast, and had spiraled back down to where he started; crashing and burning in the process. He thought his plan was sound, but clearly he hadn't quite thought things through. 

The stars twinkled and shined as they slowly moved across the sky, almost too slow to notice. He took his eye away from the eyepiece, taking a small break from squinting to look at the river. He smiles at the way the moonlight glistened on the water, like a million shards of glass reflecting the light. Sparkling silver that made his heart light with happiness from the sheer beauty of it. He let out a soft sigh, smiling as he tried to relax. Now wasn't the time to think about his troubles. He let his mind wander to the finer things in life.

Abraham's eyes suddenly flickered into his mind, like a shooting star flitting across the sky in a dazzling streak of light. He wondered why this man came into his thoughts so often. But why now? When he was appreciating the beauty of the world around him, and seeing the glory of the stars? He remembered that devious man, one who had admittedly manipulated him, and used him for the good of his cause. But at the same time, he wasn't angry. He couldn't blame Abraham for fighting in what he believed in; against a king who hardly understood why the rebels wanted freedom in the first place. Thinking in silence had become dull. He didn't want to ruin the quiet, but perhaps he could work this conflict out with words.

"Abraham..." His voice came out a bit louder than he had intended, and he swallowed, trying again. 

"Abraham, you've been in my thoughts for over a year at this point. And every time you come to mind, I cannot forget the kindness you showed me; when you could have done something horrid while I was... indisposed." Hewlett swallowed, trying to put his feelings into words that would make sense. A journal would have served the same purpose, but this felt right.

"I cannot take the image of your star-lit face out of my head. Such beauty can hardly be expressed in words, so I don't know why I bother to try..." He lets out a soft chuckle at himself. "But for the sake of getting it off my chest, I will give it my best shot. Your eyes sparkled like the water before me, the stars so vivid and bright within them. Your face was like marble... or polished ivory. A perfect work of art, carved by one of the greats... Though I don't expect you to understand." He sighs, looking out across the water.

"Your hands-- When they held me... I don't understand why you felt the need to warm my cold fingers, and in that manner-- I may never know how you feel about me. You gave your warmth to me. Such a gesture is not one of an acquaintance, and I certainly don't have any friends who would do that for me. I suppose you would be the first. I admire you, and yet I understand you no better than the bottom of this river..." Edmund runs his hand over his head, like he had seen Abraham do. His heart was pounding in his chest, and yet he felt light. His chest was weightless, and free. But his mind had yet to realize it.

"I don't understand this feeling in my chest. I feel like I'm about to float away, across the sea, over the dancing water... I cannot keep my hands still when I think of you. I grow restless and giddy at the thought of you but I don't understand why. I have always thought of you as a friend and yet my heart has decided you hold more value than that." His brow furrowed, and he tried to reason with himself. These butterflies in his stomach were only worsening, and he almost felt like he wanted to cry. Not with sadness, but joy. 

"Why do I tremble now? Why do my hands shake? Why does my heart feel like its... It's..." He lost the words, feeling tears welling in his eyes as he gave up, leaning against his telescope a bit. He set his hand on it, running his fingers over the cool metal. He held it like how Abraham had done to him, setting his hand so gently upon him.

"Your hand on my shoulder... You didn't want me to leave, did you? Your eyes were glistening with tears, and I swear for that one moment, I felt like I was floating... I..." His voice died away as the epiphany he had been waiting for finally struck him. He said it just as it crossed his mind. Finally he had figured out his feelings for Abraham, and no doubt his feelings as well.

"I love you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! The next chapter may be a bit slow, I have notes to take, and a show to watch! That's right I do research ahead of time.


	8. Laws and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hewlett is back in the colonies, and hears news of Abraham in the American Legion. He's delighted at the chance to meet Abraham again.
> 
> Abe on the other hand, is conflicted with something he sees between Robert and Edmund.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready? I am! 
> 
> I will say, this chapter feels a little clunky to me, and I apologize, sometimes I get in and out of swings! But sometimes, you just have to power through it. 
> 
> ((And not to give myself excuses, but this is where scenes really start to change with certain characters! I have to keep track of feelings and figure out how certain interactions change as a result. (Also hush, I know The Iliad is Greek)))

Major Hewlett had arrived back in New York. He had barely spent a week back in the city before he applied for the position of Head of Intelligence. He had heard of Major Andre's demise shortly after arriving in Scotland of course, but he was shocked that no one had taken his place. Perhaps out of greed and necessity, he had decided to take it. Abraham had given him the idea to give fake tips for real money. And it seemed to be working, for now.

But this wasn't Edmund's main focus at the moment; it was the headline of the newspaper in his hands. "Massacre at Lyme". The dreadful headline detailed the death of Richard Woodhull; once a dear friend of his; at the hands of rampaging rebels, after the 500 pound bounty that was being traded. Though the most important information, was that Abraham was still alive. He was one of the lucky few to survive the attack. Edmund knew the attackers couldn't be rebels, that would be preposterous if they attacked their own men. It had to be skinners, or cowboys, or... Simcoe.

Simcoe was still alive. The thought sent a chill down his back. Still this knavish man posed a most devilish problem, an obstacle that still hadn't been chopped down. No matter how many times they tried, he always sprang back up like a hydra's head; twice as ferocious. No matter, he would have to be dealt with later. Right now, he had to worry about seeing Abraham.

Well- right after he tackled the glaring pile of paperwork on his desk. The newspaper had also detailed terms of recruitment for a new regiment; The American Legion, led by "Spy-catcher General", Benedict Arnold, the most illustrious hero of Saratoga... for the rebels. Now he was a turncoat, hated by just about everyone. Hewlett had heard officers whispering ill things about him, and he knew for a fact that higher-ups didn't trust him. After all, who would trust a traitor? Especially one who caused the death of beloved Major John Andre.

One of the papers on his desk was a detailed list of new recruits in the American Legion. How ironic that their commander was previously on the American side... He brushed away the thought, starting to review the list. Ordinary names, in no particular order. Joseph Sturridge, David Houghton, Abraham Woodhull, Henry-

"What?" He barely realized he had said anything out loud as he quickly checked the list again. Sure enough, his name was there. His heart fluttered with excitement at the mere thought of Abe being within reach. He was here in New York! Of course, the reminder of him being a spy was a little bittersweet. No matter, he hadn't heard any whispers of a spy named Culper, so perhaps the misinformation he had spread about Anna Strong died with Andre. In fact that may very well have been what happened. Oh, focus you nitwit! He reminded himself, quickly grabbing a piece of parchment as well as his quill pen.

He needed to write to Benedict Arnold in order to request a visit. Of course, it would have to be disguised as a valid reason for seeing him, and he realized that Arnold may come with him. With a story like Abraham's; his father killed by "rebels"; no doubt Arnold may take him under his wing. That would make it difficult for them to meet one on one... Oh well, they would figure that out later. For now, an initial meeting would be required.

The Major found himself smiling as he wrote his letter. He couldn't get Abraham's eyes out of his head, glistening with starlight like the river Tay. He remembered both nights; one where he had begun feeling things for Abraham, seeing his beauty, yet not realizing what was forming between them; and the other where he realized exactly what he had been feeling all along, why his hands and heart fluttered with excitement. His pen ceased its movement as he drifted into a day dream where Abraham held him close, his hand caressing his cheek. He was so close, his lips curled with a sweet little smile. He could almost hear his voice calling to him.

"Major Hewlett?" A courier poked their head in, stopped at his room to pick up any outgoing letters. Edmund snapped out of his daze, looking up at the young man peeking into his room. Quickly he finished the letter, pouring a little sand on it to dry up any wet ink. He folded and sealed it, addressing it to General Benedict Arnold. He gathered up a few other letters that needed to be sent out.

"Apologies, I lost track of time." Hewlett says softly, offering the letters to him. The courier shrugs, not seeming to care as he tucked the letters away and headed off. Edmund sighs, drumming his fingers against his desk as he thought about the daydream he just had. 

"This is dangerous..." He says quietly, reminding himself that he needed to be careful. Abraham was a spy, and would no doubt be looking for information while he was here in New York, perhaps even involving Benedict Arnold himself. That would explain why he chose to enlist in the American Legion in particular. Not to mention, if Abraham somehow got caught here, he may be in danger as well due to his involvement. But those weren't the only problems; sodomy was also illegal, if they were caught doing-

"Oh good heavens..." He muttered to himself as he realized he was already imagining them having more romantic relations. He ran his hand over his hair, which had grown out enough now to be tied back into a neat ponytail. Having this relationship with Abraham was dangerous, illegal, and sinful. But, there was no way he could stop himself from pursuing Abraham now. After all, he was most of the reason he had come back to the colonies in the first place. Whatever came of the both of them, he would accept. Laws weren't going to stop him from loving Abraham.

***

Abraham walked with General Arnold, his jaw clenched shut as he followed him. All he had been told was that they were going to meet the new Head of Intelligence, to see if they could figure out who was behind the attack on him and his friends. Abe already knew of course; ironically it was a man of the British forces. He sighs softly, finding it odd that the General was walking behind him a little bit. He tried to keep his cool. Andre was dead, but there could be anyone behind the door in front of him. Arnold's deep voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Finally have the new man in place as head of intelligence." Their boots thudded against the floor in a near matching rhythm. His heart was pounding faster. "Maybe he has some idea of who's responsible for your father's death, or what happened to that ransom money." Arnold continued. They stopped in front of the door, and Abraham looked up at the towering man. He hated how this traitor loomed over him, making him feel insignificant. He looked down at the floor, avoiding the General's gaze as he continued.

He knew exactly who was responsible. Simcoe. He was going to pay, one way or another. And the ransom money was made off with by Jordan, no- Akinbode. He corrected himself in his head. For a moment, he found it amusing that a former Queen's Ranger had saved his life. Perhaps Akinbode hated Simcoe as much as everyone else did. 

"His letter mentioned that the two of you were familiar." Arnold suddenly added. Abraham had never done a double take so fast. Familiar? Panic started to rise in his chest. He could feel his heart pounding as a cold dread coursed through him. Familiar could mean anyone... His mind raced as he tried to think of who could possibly be behind the door. 

Arnold had the door open before Abraham could process much of anything. He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as he followed the General, his broad figure blocking his view. He wouldn't be able to see who it was until he was completely in the room. The moment Arnold stepped aside, he heard a voice he hadn't been blessed with hearing in a long time.

"General." Major Hewlett greeted the traitor, looking up at him before his gaze drifted over to Abraham. Abe felt his heart swell with happiness as he saw Edmund. He had to fight the tears coming to his eyes, but he couldn't help but let a little polite smile come to his face. Edmund's eyes were glistening with light and happiness.

Hewlett returned a small smile, seeing the pools of Abraham's eyes almost shimmering with tears. It had been far too long since they had seen each other, and Edmund knew the farmer had felt love for him for far longer. It had just taken Hewlett longer to realize what the feeling was.

"Pleasure to meet you, we have much to discuss." Hewlett continued, standing from his chair and setting down the letter he had been holding. He walked around his desk, coming up to meet Arnold. He shook his hand curtly, surprised at his firm grip. 

"Major." Benedict greeted simply. Hewlett tried not to pay the turncoat any mind, much more interested in speaking with Abraham. He looked back up at Abe with a sweet little smile, hoping Arnold was none the wiser.

"Thank you for coming, Abraham." He says softly. Abraham did his best to keep his excitement at bay, staying as soldierly as he could. Edmund knew it would be difficult to keep things professional with the way things were between them, but they would have to manage while Arnold was here. "Why don't you take a seat?" Hewlett invites, standing aside to let Abraham in, also so he could close the door to give them a margin of privacy. 

They locked eyes for a second as Abraham stepped in. They could feel a different sort of tension had built between them. Neither of them wore a mask. They knew most everything about one another, things that would get both of them in trouble with either side. They could only hope that the turncoat in the room was oblivious to their knowing gazes. 

Hewlett walked back to his desk, simply standing behind it as he faced the General and Abraham. He tried to put on a more serious face now, reminding himself that they were going to discuss who might be behind the ambush that resulted in the death of Abe's father. But they weren't after the rumors, or the apparent right answer. They were after the truth of who attacked him.

"Deception. Betrayal. Chaos. These are the enemies that we face-- the enemies of truth." Hewlett began, keeping his gaze locked with Abraham's. Now that they were getting into discussing this matter, the farmer couldn't help but be a little tense. Flashes of the event were in his head now, and he was like a deer in the lamp light; frozen. Hewlett could see this, and he felt a touch of sympathy for the poor man. He knew it was difficult losing a parent, especially to such circumstances.

"To me, the truth seems quite clear. It was rebels behind the ambush." Arnold said curtly, glancing over at Private Woodhull. Hewlett seemed skeptical that this was the case, as he suspected that Simcoe was behind this somehow. Who else could it be? Seemed like he was responsible for every horrid thing that happened.

"Rebels who killed their own?" Hewlett asks in disbelief. He wondered if the General would realize just how preposterous that sounded. Abraham still stared off into space, almost looking through Hewlett as this conversation continued. Edmund sighed silently as the turncoat continued.

"Yes, they are both savage and incompetent, trust me." He says, somewhat irritated. Hewlett blinked. Perhaps this turncoat knew more about rebels than he did, or maybe he was simply sour at them after he had been forced to change sides. Whatever it was, he thought Abraham would be a more reliable person to ask on the matter.

"What do you make of that assessment, Abraham? That the rebels are savages?" Hewlett asks him quietly, hoping Abe was aware enough to be able to respond. He felt a little forced to ask these difficult questions, but it was simply for appearances. Abraham seemed unsure of how to respond for the moment, swallowing nervously. He didn't like being this close to a traitor, or being asked these questions. He knew it was for appearances, however.

"I, um-- I can't be sure they were rebels, sir." Abraham began. His heart was pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure how to feel. Hewlett was right here in front of him, and it had been far too long since he had seen his kind gaze, admiring him so ardently. But here, with this traitor, this felt more like an interrogation. 

"I can. And yes, they would kill their own. Treachery runs in their blood." The General said curtly. Both Abraham and Hewlett had to bite their tongue to keep themselves from blurting: In your blood, maybe. Instead, Hewlett gave the sharp reply;

"Does it now?" He asks. He couldn't help but glance at Abraham with a ghost of a smile. Abraham let a tiny smirk light his expression. Finally the tension in the room had dissipated. Hewlett pursed his lips, ridding the smile from his face as he tried to think of how to end this conversation. "General, I wonder if I might-- interview Private Woodhull on my own." Idly he decided to pick up a sheathed blade on his desk. Abraham shifted as he wondered where the Major had gotten such an item. Perhaps it was from Scotland... 

"So, you two know each other well, then." Arnold deduces, looking between them curiously. He seemed to sense something was up between the two, but he wasn't sure exactly what. Edmund locked eyes with Abe once again.

"Oh, quite well." The Major responds quietly. Abraham was quick to continue what Edmund was saying.

"Major Hewlett was billeted at my father's house. There's not much we don't know about each other." He admits, wondering what Hewlett was thinking now. There was only one uncertainty between them, one unknown variable: what they were going to do together. Neither of them knew how their relationship would play out, or if it could even work like this. 

"Though I must confess, Major, you have me at a disadvantage." Abe says softly, remembering that Edmund knew he was Culper. Still, he figured that this was water under the bridge by now. If he had wanted to expose him, he would have already done so. At least he didn't have to worry about that right now. 

"We had heard you had moved back to England. What brings you back to the Colonies?" He asks, genuinely curious as to why he had come back. He figured part of the reason was himself, but whatever else, he couldn't be sure.

"Oh, it's a long story, I'm afraid. And we are here today to discuss yours... And to secure the justice that you deserve." Hewlett says assuredly, nodding to Abe. They would make sure Simcoe paid for this. Of course, for now they had to account for who Arnold thought the attackers were.

"And rightful recompense." Arnold added. For once, both of them agreed with the turncoat. The man responsible would pay for this. Abraham was fast to give a lead.

"I heard one of them call the other by a name." He says quickly, also wanting to be out of this room with Benedict Arnold as fast as possible. "Thorburn." He says, glancing at the papers on Hewlett's desk. Edmund nods, quickly grabbing a piece of paper and his quill, writing down the name.

"Thorburn." He repeats quietly. "Well, that's a start." He says softly, glancing up at Abraham once or twice, just in case he had another name to add. "I shall contact my sources, and seek to identify the culp-rits of this crime." Edmund teased with a little smirk, making Abe look up at him with a bit of shock. "And I assume those culp-able will have made the wise choice to flee this colony." He looked Abe in the eye as he spoke, sort of cheekily reminding him that he knew; without alerting Arnold of course. However, he drifted his gaze back to Arnold as he said one final thing. 

"And if they have not, they will be caught, and hanged." He says bitterly. In all honesty, he did hope that Arnold got caught. He could hardly stand working with a turncoat. It was uncomfortable, and the trust just wasn't there. Abraham let another smirk slip as he realized that this final comment was directed at Arnold. It seems they had an understanding.

"Very good." Arnold says softly, unaware of the context.

"Thank you General." Hewlett says softly, watching Arnold start to leave. Abraham gave Hewlett a saddened glance. He didn't want to leave Edmund already, but he didn't have much of a choice. He turned and followed the traitor out of the room. 

Edmund's gaze never left Abraham, and he sighs as Benedict Arnold started to close the door. He couldn't just leave it at that, surely he had to say something more. He heard Arnold mutter something just before he opened the door once more.

"So that's our Head of Intelligence." Arnold says softly, walking off with Abraham. Edmund quickly got his attention.

"Uh, General?" Hewlett began, watching as Abraham and the turncoat turned to face him. Abraham had hope in his eyes, like maybe he was requesting a one on one meeting. Edmund saw the hope, and froze. Was he supposed to ask to meet Abraham alone? Would he suspect something? No-- why am I freezing now?! He swallowed, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Please allow me at least 24 hours for my full report." He announced, giving a little smile to Abraham. In his head, he was cursing himself for his cowardice. Abe nodded to him as he noticed Benedict Arnold had already turned to leave. Reluctantly, the spy followed him, and Edmund was forced to watch his chance slip away.

"Don't get your hopes up Woodhull..." The General muttered to Abe. Hewlett gritted his teeth, closing the door and heading back to his desk. He sat down with a huff, holding his head in his hands. 

"That was pathetic..." He whispered to himself, running his hand over his hair. He sighs softly, wondering why this reunion hadn't felt so special. He drummed his fingers against his desk. First of all, they were accompanied by a turncoat, and the topic of discussion was morbid and upsetting. Questioning Abe in such a manner, even if cheeky and/or for appearances, it was still stressful. This was simply a case of being in the right place at the wrong time. Had circumstances been different, this would have went much smoother. He hardly got to see Abraham's glistening oceanic eyes, full of love. He had instead gotten to see Abraham's glassy panicked gaze, ridden with discomfort and uncertainty. 

"This is your fault Simcoe." He curses bitterly.

***

The moonlight was shining bright tonight, the silver glow accompanied by the warmer tone of the lamp lights. Abraham didn't really like skulking around at night; he had been caught like this more times than he cared to remember. But he had to know where Hewlett was heading after finishing his work. He took a deep breath, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat as he peered around the corner. 

He retreated slightly as the door he was staring at suddenly opened, Hewlett walking through with a guard following behind him. He realized quickly that he needed to be careful following, no matter how much he wanted to run up and ask Edmund where he lived. He would have to be patient. After he was certain they were at a good distance, he crept out of the shadows, trailing after them.

The thought crossed his mind that Edmund might not be headed straight home, and was instead going to Rivington's. After a block or two, he realized this was the case; watching Hewlett pause in front of the tavern and bow to the guard as a thank you. The guard saluted him, and headed off. Abraham stood by a cart as he watched Hewlett enter.

What is he up to? He thought, suddenly catching Townsend's gaze through the open door as he was cleaning a glass. He wasn't sure if Robert had recognized him, but he supposed it didn't matter. All he knew was that Hewlett was at the bar now- until the door shut. He sighs, clenching his jaw and waiting patiently for the door to open again so he could see in. A patron walked in but was stopped by another passerby, providing Abraham with a few precious seconds.

What he saw now confused him. He saw Edmund pull out a coin purse and start pulling out a rather generous amount of coins. Townsend glanced over his shoulder. What was he seeing? The only reason it was confusing; of course; was that Townsend was a spy as well. It was concerning to see Hewlett and the Major interacting so closely, and with money. Townsend wasn't being paid to give up secrets, was he? No- Hewlett wouldn't be able to pay him for that sort of thing... Not in a public place.

"Hey, Woodhull." The deep voice of Abe's Sergeant startled him, and he quickly fixed his posture as he locked eyes with his superior.

"Sergeant." He addressed him respectfully. He must have looked tense, because the Sergeant narrowed his eyes at him.

"Is something wrong, private?" He asks quickly, suspicious that something was up. 

"No, Sergeant." He lied, trying to maintain his posture as he glanced over at the open doorway again, peering into the tavern. The Sergeant was quick, turning behind him to follow Abe's gaze. He knew something was wrong by this point, but he didn't make any mention of it.

"And what are you doing out here? It's after curfew." He reminds Abraham, his tone a bit more patient and curious. Abraham shook his head, once again looking into the tavern, trying to catch a glimpse of Hewlett. What he saw made his heart freeze.

He saw Hewlett tucking a small book into his coat, and both him and Robert smiling. He saw Hewlett laugh, a beaming smile lighting his face. Now not only was his concern about Robert giving up secrets, but now he was worried that Hewlett was having some form of relation with Townsend. He had no idea how well Robert knew Hewlett, but he was certainly going to find out. Jealousy stabbed in his chest like a dagger of thorns. They looked like they were having a very engaging conversation. 

"I was just, uh... I was just headed that way, Sergeant." He says softly, having to fight with himself to pry his gaze away from the doorway. He swallowed nervously, watching his superiors expression harden.

"Well then, allow me to escort you." The sergeant said firmly, grabbing Abraham by the shoulder and starting to drag him off toward the barracks. Abraham wanted to protest, but he knew this would only get him in trouble. He couldn't stop thinking about what he saw. He focused on keeping his legs moving, but his mind was fixed on that smile that he had seen Hewlett give Robert. 

-

Hewlett had only just finished laughing at Robert's wisecrack about Achilles and Patroclus from the Iliad. Other scholars said they were very good friends, but after his own infatuation with Abraham, he could safely say that the two heroes were much more than pals. He sighs softly, giving Robert a warm smile.

"A glass of madeira, please." He requests, full prepared to pay for the drink. Robert didn't bat an eye, grabbing a bottle of the sweet wine and uncorking it, pouring Edmund a rather generous glass of it. 

"With my compliments, Major." Robert nodded to him, pushing the glass over to him. Hewlett grins, picking up the glass and raising it to him in a toast.

"To your good health, sir." The Major said happily, Townsend returning a smile as Edmund walked off to find a table. He picked one that was front and center, with a good view of the entire place. He took a seat, laying back in his chair. Finally he felt relaxed. Everything seemed to be going well; He would arrange a meeting with Abraham, and finally get to speak with him, alone. He had the position as Head of Intelligence, and was working on making the money back he had lost when he tried to sell his commission, and failed. He brought his glass to his lips, but he could feel someone's gaze on him, fixated on him. He glanced around, wondering who was staring at him.

Glacial eyes bored into him across the room. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise with fear as he recognized the demon who glared at him. Simcoe. His skin prickled with goosebumps, and his mouth went dry as he could hear his heart pounding in his head. Simcoe had him in his sights, and Edmund felt horribly small. He could have been knocked over with a feather.

He started to lower his glass, wondering if he should flee, or hold his ground. The merciless Captain was a different sort of predator. If he ran, the beast would give chase; but if he stayed his ground, there was no telling if the knave would let him be, or slay him where he stood. In public like this, Hewlett decided to stay put.

This didn't change the fact that his heart was pounding in his chest. It served as a reminder that he was alive, but perhaps for not much longer. Simcoe never took his eyes off him. He felt like he had been turned to stone, as if Simcoe possessed Medusa's ability to freeze him. The Major wasn't sure if he should look away. Panic had already set in, and his thoughts were racing by faster than he could process them.

This green-clad monster was the fuel of nightmares, adorned with piercing blue eyes and a mane of unruly auburn hair. It could talk to you ever so softly, and lull you into thinking it meant no ill-will, then show it's true colors with a petrifying roar. He could hardly get his bloodcurdling war-cry out of his head, his blood chilling at the thought.

His heart began to pound faster as Simcoe rose from his chair, beating in his ears as the devil approached. He saw his saber and bayonet sheathed on his hip, his hat under his arm. His heart felt as if it may burst as Simcoe drew nearer, his pulse accelerating. 

He clenched his jaw as he braced for something to happen as Simcoe passed him... But nothing happened. The beast walked by him harmlessly, and carefully Hewlett turned his head to see if the demon was leaving. Thankfully, Charybdis incarnate was leaving the establishment, letting his heart slow back to a reasonable rhythm. He swallowed, and drew a breath. He hadn't realized he had been holding it. He exhaled, trying to bring himself back to the serene calm he had earlier. 

Hewlett knew there wouldn't be true peace until this monstrosity was dead. He hated to think like this, but he knew... There was only one way to get rid of him. He would have to make a plan with Abraham to kill him. A smirk came to his lips. Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you soon, Abraham; he thought to himself, scoffing a laugh. He raised his glass for Abraham, and took a hearty swig. Of course, he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity for a crack at Simcoe.

"To your good health, Simcoe."

***

The sun was shining brightly upon the city, but Abraham wasn't basking in the warmth of it. His mind had been replaying that moment he had caught between Robert and Edmund, laughing and smiling. He was standing by the corner of a building, across the street from Rivington's. He knew that they were getting a shipment of various alcoholic beverages, and smoked meat. Sure enough, a cart pulled up near the entrance, stopping out in front. Robert exited the establishment, a log-book in hand as he walked over to the man handling the goods. 

Abraham wondered when Robert would notice him. The Quaker was incredibly perceptive, and noticed things many others didn't. He supposed that came with being a spy. Robert seemed to have sensed his stare, because he looked up from the paper in his hands, looking Abe in the eye. Abraham adjusted his Brown Bess, sliding it up a little carefully. They seemed to understand that they needed to talk, and Robert did his best to finish up with the merchant. Abraham started walking over, following Townsend through a green door; a secondary entrance that led to his room.

Too much was already running through Abraham's mind. The money Edmund had paid Robert, the book he had tucked into his coat, that laugh he had belted out... And all if this in front of Townsend. He had a lot of questions he needed answered, but he didn't want Robert to panic. He followed the Quaker into his room as he held the door for him, setting his musket and hat aside as he walked further into the room, trying to think of how to begin.

"What is this about?" Robert suddenly asked, not giving Abraham any more time to think. He whipped around to face Townsend, a concerned expression painting his face. He took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists. He remembered the knife hidden in his sleeve, and decided to ignore it. There was no reason to get violent. After all, he might be missing context. He wouldn't draw the knife unless he was certain there was something serious going on.

"How do you know Hewlett?" Abe asks, trying to keep his voice from quivering with emotion. Robert seemed confused.

"Who?" He asks, his brow furrowing a little. Abraham tried to be patient, but was a little annoyed. 

"How long have you known Major Hewlett?" He tried again, hoping the other spy would know who he was talking about. He didn't feel like explaining what he looked like, even if he could do so very well.

"Major Hewlett?" Townsend confirms, wanting to be sure they were talking about the same person. Abraham nods curtly, taking a deep breath. 

"Yes, I saw you speaking with him last night." He explains quietly, examining Robert's expression. There was a margin of tension between them now, but not nearly as much as there would have been if he had gone in more aggressively. Townsend took a moment to think, phrasing his words carefully.

"You saw a man paying his bill, which is a rare sight in these parts, but I assure you it does happen from time to time. Now what are you getting at, and why are you hiding a knife?" Robert asks sternly. Abraham blinks in surprise. Was it that obvious? Well it wasn't like he was going to use it; it didn't seem necessary at the moment.

"It's a precaution." He began, deciding to keep the knife sheathed for the moment. "What I'm getting at; is that you two seem to know each other." He explains, waiting for Robert to give him a real answer. He needed to know everything; why and how he knew Hewlett, what that book was about, and why Hewlett had been laughing with him.

"I make it my business to know every officer that frequents the coffeehouse, so why is this one so different?" The Quaker asks, narrowing his eyes at Abraham. Abe felt his pulse quicken. Why was he different? Well first of all, Edmund knew he was Culper. He hated that particular reminder, but he knew Hewlett wasn't going to spill his secret. Not only that, but he loved Edmund more than he might care to admit to anyone. Did he have to tell Robert this little fact? He struggled for the answer in his mind, swallowing nervously. 

"Because, he knows I'm Culper." He says decisively. He watched shock slowly come to the other spies face, and he drew back a little. "Now, I need to know exactly what he said to you." Abraham demanded, considering drawing the knife now. No... You don't need to be violent. Yet. If this fool was having relations with Edmund however, he would make damn sure Robert would regret it. Townsend raced for a cognitive answer, sighing with stress.

"Uh... We talked about some new planet, and some book about the Roman Empire. Why hasn't he arrested you yet?" He had spoken quickly, hoping to avoid getting a knife pulled on him. Abraham gritted his teeth. That answered the question about the book, but it still didn't give a reason to the joy he had seen Hewlett express. Abraham sighs, trying to think of what to say. Would he tell the truth, and admit to loving Hewlett? Well, this would likely answer his question to see if Robert was having relations with him or not. Or- he could admit to making a pact with him in order to kill Simcoe.

"Because..." He started, unsure which choice to make as he turned and paced around the room. "Because I made a pact with him to kill Simcoe, back in Setauket-- but it didn't work, and then he quit his post after my father blocked his marriage with Anna Strong." He explains, peeking out of the window to make sure no one was listening nearby. Robert suddenly blurted out an irritated question.

"How have I never heard of this person?" He asks with a huff, putting his arms out with exasperation. Abraham turned to face him again, wondering what he should say. He swallows.

"Because I didn't think you needed to worry about him. Last I heard, he was selling his commission." He explains, walking back up to Robert and studying his expression. He seemed concerned, so he probably wasn't in relations with him.

"Does he know about me? Should I run?" Townsend asks, somewhat in a panic. Yeah, there was no way he was having more amorous relations with Hewlett. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He said what he was thinking before he could rephrase it.

"No, no I don't think he does. If he did, you'd already be dead." He says softly. Townsend tenses, shifting uncomfortably. Abraham heads for the door, but pauses. Maybe Robert knows where Hewlett lives, after all, if he was paying his bill...

"Wait, Hewlett was paying his bill, right? Let me see it. I need to know where he lives." He says quickly, gesturing to the papers on Robert's desk. Townsend gave him an odd look, but did what he asked, walking over to his desk and rummaging through the stack of bills to find Major Hewlett's. He walks back over to him, offering the paper. Abraham went to grab it, but was surprised as Robert didn't simply let it go. Abe met his gaze with a touch of concern. The other spy narrowed his eyes.

"There's something you're not telling me." Robert says firmly. Abraham's eyes flickered over his expression. There really was no fooling him, was there? Townsend was a damn good spy, better than him for certain. Abe could lie to him, but he would probably figure that out. Besides, they needed as much trust as they could get between them.

"You're right. There is something I'm not telling you-- but I need you to keep it to yourself, okay? It could get both Hewlett and I in trouble." He started, shifting uncomfortably as he realized he had to admit one of his most guarded secrets. Townsend seemed to be already figuring it out, or was trying to. He seemed frustrated and fed up with whatever he was hiding.

"What do you mean get both of you in trouble? What on earth have you gotten yourself-?!" Robert began, but Abraham swiftly cut him off, ripping the bill out of his hands.

"I'm in love with him, okay?!" Abraham blurts quickly. This shut Townsend up really quick, but Abe wasn't sure if he wanted this to be the thing that made him speechless. He didn't like the sense of dread that ran through his veins. They were silent for a moment, and somehow this was the most uncomfortable moment of quiet he had experienced for a long time. Robert's stern expression softened, like he was trying to empathize with Abe in his head. 

"I don't know what you're up to with him, but it better not interfere with, or involve your work with the ring." He warns gravely. Abraham sighs, knowing Townsend was right. He still had to be careful with what he said and did around Hewlett. 

"No, no it doesn't. He knows I'm Culper, but I'm not worried about that." He says quietly, his tone softening. Robert seemed incredibly confused.

"Why aren't you worried? If someone knew my identity I'd be running for the hills, why haven't you done that?" He asks in shock, trying to wrap his head around what Abraham was doing. Abe just smiled at Robert.

"Because he loves me back." He explains, quickly heading out of the room before Townsend had the chance to start the conversation up again, or make a comment about his wife. He wasn't about to open that can of worms again... He headed back out into the street, looking down at Hewlett's bill. Edmund lived close. Good.

He would pay him a visit tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I know, its a little disappointing to end with a cliffhanger, but I guarantee smut in the next chapter! ;)


	9. A Late Entry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraham sneaks into Hewlett's home, hoping he was home so he could speak with him alone, at long last. Of course- he doesn't pass up the opportunity to do some snooping as well. 
> 
> Unfortunately, an unwelcome intruder breaks in, hoping to kill Hewlett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go! I know it's been a long time coming, but finally we get a the climax!

The etherial moonlight shimmered against the brick road, illuminating the path along with the warm glow of an occasional lamp. However the more crude dirt road didn't reflect any light, dim and dull and dirty. Abraham paid it no mind as he ambled down the paved road, cautiously looking around as patrolling redcoats passed, and passerby's headed home. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, and his sleek leather jacket. Donning the clothes of a spy was more comfortable to Abe than wearing the aggressive red color of the British army. 

He carefully surveyed his surroundings before he turned the corner, waiting for a carriage to pass before proceeding. He kept his head down as he walked toward Edmund's home. Again he looked around to make sure no one was watching as he approached the door, slipping his knife out of his sleeve. He hadn't the foggiest idea how to open the door. He tried the knob- locked, of course. He clenched his jaw nervously, casting another glance over his shoulder as he slid the blade of the knife into the lock. He knew a little about locks, how there were tumblers that he needed to push out of the way. He carefully started wiggling the blade, trying to find the right position for it. He turned the handle with each position he tried. The doorknob finally turned, making his heart jump with adrenaline. He pushed the door open, retracting his knife with a sharp *shink*. 

Abraham knew Hewlett wasn't home as soon as he walked in and shut the door behind him. There wasn't any light anywhere within the home, save for the moonlight filtering through the windows. Normally Hewlett was up late, from what he recalled while he was at Whitehall. He liked to read the classics around this hour, or look through his telescope. He noticed that Edmund's home was decorated quite nicely with globes, books, and other intellectual artifacts. It suited him.

He remembered Townsend's words, about how Hewlett couldn't get involved with, or interfere with his work for the ring. He hated that Robert was right, but he had a point. While he was here, he might as well look around before the Major got back. He planned on staying to speak with him... and perhaps discuss something that had been on his mind for some time now. He had been thinking, or rather, daydreaming about getting closer to him. He sometimes wished he could feel Edmund embracing him, holding him close and making him feel loved. It had been a while since he had anyone to hold him.

He shook his head, telling himself to focus as he explored Edmund's home. He spotted a telescope, the metal glistening with starlight. He approached it, quickly realizing that he had entered Hewlett's office. The light coming through the window illuminated his desk, almost calling him to it. Abraham followed the guide, and crept over to the desk. Curiously he looked over the papers on his desk. Nothing important... The chest however, was much more intriguing. He tried to open it, immediately figuring out it was locked.

He brandished his knife again, jimmying the lock open after a few unsuccessful tries. He carefully opened it, hoping Hewlett wouldn't walk in at this exact moment. The contents seemed innocent enough, a leather bag, and a journal wrapped with a leather cord to keep it closed. But as a spy, he knew that the journal could be far from innocent. He first picked up the bag, the sound of jingling coins was loud in his palm. He opened the bag, peering in curiously. Pounds, shillings, pence... Nothing out of the ordinary. He also noticed a few other coins in the box, turning them in his hands. Nothing of huge significance to him. The only question that came to mind was where the money had come from in the first place.

Now was the journal. He picked it up carefully, turning it in his hands before quickly unwrapping the leather cord, opening the journal to the first page. At first, it seemed to be a diary, talking about Anna Strong, and Selah... Hewlett's handwriting was quite neat, but slightly hard to read. He flipped the page, smiling as he saw Edmund talking about the planets, and William Herschel. Nothing of too much importance, but he would have to have a friendly discussion about the stars later with Edmund. He was sure the Major's eyes would light up with happiness and passion about something he loved. He turned the page, wondering what else he would find, though he was debating putting the diary away. It wasn't exactly his business to-

He froze, the waves of handwriting on the page were painting a different picture now. 

-  
Twenty cannon at West Point, moving north. Henry Browning, paid ten shillings, Hewlett.  
-

What the hell is this? The thought went by, and he remembered the man who had tried to check on him while he was in New York. It had been years since he had thought of that name. But Henry Browning is dead... He flipped the page, curious if he would find more of this. 

-  
General Washington sending 200 horse to Norwalk. John Robeson, 3 guineas, paid 3 guineas, Hewlett.  
-

Robeson? But he was dead as well... Simcoe had killed him in a fit of rage. He flipped the page again, trying to figure out what Hewlett was doing.

-  
Colonel Simcoe willing to join rebels at earliest opportunity. Abraham Woodhull, 8 pounds. Abraham Woodhull, Paid 8 pounds.  
-

He chews his lip, realizing that Hewlett was using a similar scheme that he had employed while he was giving fake tips about the sons of liberty. Fake tips from fake informants, for real money. Obviously whoever was in charge of taking this information didn't give a rats ass about checking their sources. He smirks at Edmund's cunning strategy. He was starting to piece things together now. He had failed to sell his commission, and was making the money back. The irony was there, and Abe couldn't help but let out a little laugh as he continued flipping through the journal, finding similar tips and notes.

"Hewlett you sly bastard." He chuckles softly to himself, and starts wrapping the journal back up, tucking it away in the chest. He closed the box, hoping he didn't break the lock. Thankfully it seemed okay, and he put it back in it's rightful place. He wondered if he should wait for Hewlett in his bedroom as a surprise. Besides, meeting him there could end with an amorous evening. He shivered at the thought of Edmund caressing his- The doorknob suddenly jiggled, startling Abe from his thoughts, and he swiftly fled to the room he thought was Edmund's bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He heard the window open, and he whipped around to see who had opened it. His blood ran cold as he saw a man climbing through the window. Adrenaline made his pulse quicken as he realized this was one of Simcoe's men. He brandished his blade, eyes wide with panic. He felt like a cornered animal.

"Who the hell are you?" The man demanded, glaring at him. Abraham didn't feel like he had a choice but to attack, his heart racing as his thoughts screamed:

Protect Hewlett.

He lunged forward with his blade, trying to stab the man in the side. He jolted as the man deflected his blow, grabbing his arm and preventing him from pulling his arm back. Abraham's eyes were wide as he tried to wrestle away from him, yelping as he realized Simcoe's man was much stronger. Cleverly, he dropped his knife into his other hand, stabbing the man in the side. He howled in pain, punching Abe in the stomach to get him off. Abraham had the wind knocked out of him, dazed for a moment. The sting of a punch to his cheek quickly accompanied the daze, knocking him off his balance. Before he knew it, the man had him in a choke hold, and he was desperately clutching at his arm, futilely trying to break free. He tried to cry out for Edmund, but it came out as a strangled groan. 

"What the hell are you doing here, boy?" The thickly accented voice asked in a mocking tone. The door opened, a red coat visible in the dark of the room. Abraham felt his heart pound faster as he realized who the red coat belonged to. 

"He is here for me, just as you are." He began, his voice low with a deep growl. "Turn him!" He ordered sharply, quickly lunging forward without waiting. Abraham growls, using all of his strength to pull the man to the side. 

Edmund's blade plunged into the man's side, gliding through flesh and past bone. Hewlett found satisfaction in the sharp scream Simcoe's man let out, all of his focus was on protecting Abraham. The man quickly pushed them away, a wild look of rage in his eyes. The Major suddenly blanked out, staring at the man before him. Abraham was recovering by the window.

Hewlett gasps, frozen in place as the man suddenly charged at him, tackling him into the wall; smashing a table to pieces in the process. Hewlett suddenly found himself in the heat of the moment, trying to keep his blade away from Simcoe's man as he was about to be choked. Panic rose in his chest. He couldn't handle this man on his own.

Abraham suddenly started trying to yank the man away from Edmund, he was roaring and howling as he did. Finally Abe pulled him away, struggling to hold him back as he squirmed and kicked, frantically trying to reach back and punch Abe in the head. He yelped as the man landed a blow, pain stinging against his cheek. 

Hewlett got to his feet, the back of his head and spine aching from being slammed into the wall. He watched Abraham wrestle the knave to the floor, his face red as he was being held in a choke hold. This was his chance to kill the intruder. He dashed forward, his blade raised high. He quickly brought himself to his knees, using the momentum to drive his blade into Simcoe's man.

The blade effortlessly slid into the man's chest, and almost instantly, the man's struggling started to calm. Blood dripped from his lips as he let out a final gurgle. The only sound now was their panting, Hewlett and Abraham looking up at each other as they held the dying man down. 

Gritting his teeth, Hewlett pulled his blade from the man's chest, blood covering the cuff of his sleeve. Adrenaline was still coursing through their veins, while the man in front of them had already passed. He was still, but they were still alive. There was little to say to one another, but Abraham knew one thing.

"He's Simcoe's man." He says quickly, still breathing heavily. Hewlett scoffs, he knew that.

"No, he's more than that. He's proof of Simcoe's plot to murder me." His tone came out rather panicked. Abraham shakes his head, swallowing to make sure his voice was going to sound clear.

"Simcoe'll just say he's a loose cannon..." He says softly, meeting Edmund's gaze. He could see remnants of a passionate rage in his gaze. This fury was born from him being in peril. Hewlett gestured to the window quickly, his hand shaking with a bit of residual adrenaline.

"He has another man outside." Edmund explains, his voice quivering. Abraham glanced at the window as he let out a sigh, his cheeks puffing out.

"Care to deliver the body?" He asks, starting to get to his feet. Hewlett nods, standing and setting his blade down on a table before stooping over to grab the man's legs. Abraham did his best to hoist him up from under his arms, helping the Major carry him over to the window. Carefully they maneuvered him onto the window sill. Abraham let Edmund give the final push, the body falling with a loud thud into the wagon below. 

Edmund glared venomously at the other man in the wagon, watching him look down at his dead partner, and then up at him. With a bitter growl, he announced:

"Courtesy of Major Edmund Hewlett." He huffed, watching the other man swiftly cover his partner's body with a tarp as he quickly urged his horse forward with a sharp snap of the reigns. Hewlett let out a deep sigh, turning back toward Abraham and abruptly sitting on the floor, leaning against a chair. He could have sat down in it, but seeing Abraham on the floor as well made him want to join him there. He looked around at the mess in his room, gesturing to the blood stain with a grumble.

"I just had this place cleaned..." Hewlett pouted. He would have to replace the rug, which was imported... what a shame. Edmund looked up at his blade, which he had left on the table. He took it, looking at the blood which was congealing on it. With a bit of disgust, he pulled out a handkerchief, starting to wipe the red ichor off of it. Abraham noticed this was the same blade he had seen Hewlett with when he visited him with General Arnold.

"Where the hell did you get that?" He asks curiously. It was a mean looking blade, more like a small sword than anything else; the blade was at least a foot long. Well no wonder it killed Simcoe's man with two fell swoops. Hewlett looked up at Abraham, finally starting to calm down as he wiped the blade clean. 

"This? It's a souvenir-- my uncle acquired at Culloden. Belonged to some unfortunate Jacobite." He explained, wiping the blade off one more time as he looked at his reflection in the metal. "I brought it over with me. Just in case." He sets the blade down on the table, satisfied that it was clean enough. Abraham thought for a moment, realizing that this blade was from England.

"You mean brought it back with you." Abe points out, wondering if he was going to get a story. Hewlett sighs softly, adjusting himself to try and get more comfortable as he leaned against the chair. 

"When I returned home, I tried to sell my commission." He says, gesturing with his hand as he tried to think more clearly. Still he was out of breath, and a lock of hair was hanging in front his face. Abraham silently thought it was cute, though was tempted to fix it for him. "Only to find out that it was worthless." He says dejectedly. "No takers for a losing war, it seems." He says quietly. Abraham's brow furrowed. Losing for which side? Abe had already figured out what his scheme was.

"So you're here to get your investment back? Fake tips from fake informants for real money?" He pieces it together beautifully, a smirk lighting his expression. Edmund couldn't help but scoff a laugh as he realized that the spy had read his journal. 

"You always were a clever one Abraham, just another reason you've charmed me." He admits, the tension from a moment before had already melted away. "I got the idea from your fake sons of liberty, you remember that?" He asks. With a sly smile, Abraham responded.

"I remember getting caught." He admits, and then wonders if Hewlett was being careful enough. He needed Edmund to be careful so he could stick around. Abe had come too far to lose him now. "You aren't going to get caught are you?" He asks, a bit of concern coloring his voice. Edmund shakes his head.

"No, no one cares. They think intelligence is a fool's errand." He explains bitterly. It's unfortunate that the higher ups don't care enough to listen. If they actually wanted to win this war, they would bother to look into things. But thankfully for me, they're certainly willing to pay for it." He says softly, wetting his lips with his tongue. Abraham smiles at the Major, wondering how much he was getting paid for this sort of thing. It had to be a lot if he was willing to risk his hide for it. 

"How much?" He asks quickly. Edmund grinned deviously at him.

"A thousand pounds a month for tips alone." He explains, smirking. Abraham seemed impressed, chewing his lip. He could live off of a thousand pounds for a long time; what he wouldn't give to get his hands on that amount of money, and only in a month, no less.

"Another few years and I'll be able to purchase a decent estate... Not as nice as the one bought by Colonel Cook's graft, but enough to get what I care about." He says thoughtfully. He found himself suddenly thinking more deeply about what he wanted in life. One of those things was Abraham. All he wanted, truly, was to be able to love him unabashedly.

"What do you care about?" Abraham asked suddenly, pulling Edmund from his thoughts, only to bring him back into them. Abe was delighted to see Hewlett smile, his gaze full of love. The moonlight shimmered in his russet eyes, making Abraham swoon for him as deeply as he had when he realized his love for the Major.

"Science. My telescopes, my books..." Hewlett had a beaming smile as he gazed into Abraham's gleaming blue eyes. He was hopelessly adrift in the sea of his gaze, and he didn't want a map. "And you." Edmund adds, making Abraham smile. He could feel that the Major truly meant this. He wanted to be with him for the rest of his days. Abraham would worry about working it out with his wife later- for now, this seemed like the best course of action. Living with Hewlett on an estate, and being able to look up at the stars with him every night, or read the Odyssey-

"But this doesn't come cheap..." Hewlett reminds Abraham, pulling him from his fantasy. Abe sighs, realizing he was right. His brain reminded him that Simcoe was still a lasting problem. Nothing would be able to go forward until he was dead. If he stayed alive, they would likely be pushing up daisies before the war was over. 

"If we don't deal with Simcoe... It won't come at all." He says softly, swallowing as he tried to think of what to say. Hewlett looked up at Abraham. That's right, they still had to take care of Simcoe. He chewed his lip, trying to think of how they would deal with the seemingly immortal beast. They shared an intense gaze of understanding and agreement. Hewlett was the first to speak up.

"We made a pact to finish him, once." Edmund recalled, thinking back on when he had tried to lure Simcoe into an ambush. It had gone horribly wrong, and surely Simcoe was trying to kill him now as payback. It was certainly one of many reasons...

"And we have both paid the price for not seeing it through." Abraham says sternly, expressing the graveness of the situation. If they didn't kill Graves, they would be put in one. Hewlett nods in agreement; no one was worse than Simcoe. Every experience he had shared with the merciless beast had been a nightmare in and of itself. 

With a moment of thinking, the Major suddenly remembered that he had turned in Anna Strong as Culper. He couldn't help but let a grin come to his face as he thought back on the bitter lie he told Andre. Too bad the poor sap was dead... Oh well, he had never been respected by the unfortunate man anyway. 

"Before I left, Abraham... I turned in Anna Strong as Culper, to Andre." Hewlett admits, chuckling to himself. Abe looked up at him in shock, so he had turned in Culper! But not as me... He counted himself lucky for this fact, giggling as he realized that this lie Edmund had told was to keep him safe, and possibly get Anna in trouble. In a way, she deserved it for doing such a sneaky and conniving thing as forging a divorce. 

"And when I returned to England, I found that he had met his doom. Benedict Arnold had been awarded a regiment, and there was nary a mention-- of a spy named Anna Strong. I can only assume he kicked the bucket before he got a chance to tell anyone." The Major reasons quietly, thinking for a moment. Abraham ran this through his head, catching himself from spilling a detail about Abigail and Cicero. One of them had likely burned the letter before it was sent off.

Both of them were silent for a long moment, looking between each other. They weren't sure what else to say. Well- sure there was a lot to talk about, but not much that would lighten the mood. Just about everything they had talked about about within their entire time of knowing each other had been tense in some way, or make certain feelings rise that they didn't know how to deal with. 

Abraham got to thinking about their future again; if there was one; and what they would do with it. Again his brain reminded him of something more bleak: Whitehall belonged to him now. It was a reminder that was bittersweet. He brushed the thought of his father away, but kept the reminder of his estate. Maybe Hewlett and him could live at Whitehall. That would work, right? Abe cleared his throat, and decisively moved closer to Hewlett, seeing no reason to keep his distance. The Major held his gaze.

"When all of this is over-- When Simcoe is dead, and you finish this scheme of yours... I'll give you Whitehall. No- We'll have Whitehall. We can stay there when this war is over, Edmund." Abe says eagerly. Hewlett blinked in surprise. Just like that? He didn't have to do this informant scheme anymore? All he had to do was help Abe kill Simcoe. Well- it wasn't like that was a requirement. Actually... yes it was. Either way, it seemed like a good plan to him. Edmund gave Abraham a grin, nodding in agreement.

"Thank you, Abraham. It means more to me than you can imagine. No--" The Major stood up carefully as he minded his back, lowering his hand as an offer to pull Abe to his feet. Abraham smiled at him warmly, taking his hand and using it to help him stand. Finally they were face to face again, looking lovingly at one another. "You mean more to me than you can imagine." Edmund corrects himself, holding Abe's hands in his own. 

They could feel a connection between them, stronger than it had ever been before. But neither of them knew what to do. They knew how they felt; and knew what they wanted to express; and yet they hadn't the foggiest idea of how to show it. Up until this point, it had been understanding glances, admiring gazes, and brief moments of contact that were confusing or strange. 

Bashfully, Edmund's cheeks lit up with flush. His heart was fluttering in his chest, begging for him to do something, or make a move; but he was frozen in place. He was frozen, and yet his chest was light and warm with a deep compassion for Abraham. He swallowed nervously, squeezing Abraham's hands without realizing it. 

Abraham wasn't faring any better, but he knew he had to do something. He had been idle for far too long, and he'd be damned if he was going to let a chance like this slip through his fingers. Who knows when they would be able to meet like this again. Without a second thought, he closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Edmund's.

Hewlett felt like he was floating as soon as his lovers lips graced his. There was something about his touch that made his heart beat faster than anything else. He couldn't stop himself from melting into the kiss, letting his hands rest on Abe's sides. He shivered slightly as Abraham's hand slid up to hold the back of his neck, his caress tickling the sensitive area. He turned his head, trying to deepen the kiss as Abe was staying still. 

Abraham gingerly deepened the kiss, parting his lips and gently licking Edmund's bottom lip. He didn't expect to earn a soft whimper from his lover so soon, but it was all the encouragement he needed. He slipped his tongue into his lovers mouth, delighted as Hewlett pressed closer to him. Abraham wasn't sure what to do with his other hand, fumbling before he reached around to his lovers back, pulling him even closer. He could feel heat starting to build in his stomach, his cheeks growing rosy.

Edmund whimpered again as he was starting to feel Abe's love heat. Pleasure tingled down to his groin as Abraham explored the sensitive areas of his mouth. He let out a much louder whimper as his lover nipped his lip as a tease. A bolt of tension shot to The Major's groin, and he started to take off his overcoat, finding it was growing far too hot in here. This pleasure was pure and delightful. There wasn't a shred of guilt in his heart as he embraced Abraham, absentmindedly helping him take off his jacket. Pleasure shivered down to his stomach again as Abraham pulled out of the kiss. 

For a moment they locked eyes, their gazes hazy and clouded with lust and love. But nothing had been more clear between them. They realized now the effect they had on one another. These feelings that had been building for so long, were finally shimmering in the moonlight. They didn't need to speak, they already knew everything about each other. 

Abraham shifted his attention to Edmund's cheek, trailing kisses to his ear. Edmund whined softly, tensing as he turned his head to give Abe more access. He craved the tight feeling in his stomach, tension was building faster than he could keep track. He almost moaned as Abraham pressed kisses to his neck, boldly starting to lick and suck at different spots. 

The spy could feel how excited they both were. Edmund was trembling now, clinging to him desperately as he covered his neck with kisses and tiny bites. Carefully, he led Hewlett backward toward his bed, deciding now was the time to drop the hint. As the Major's legs hit his bed, he paused, realizing where he was. Abraham smiled as he watched Edmund's cheeks flush a brighter shade of red.

Edmund's heart was pounding fast in his chest as he realized this was it; this was their big moment. He swallowed, shivering as he slid onto his bed, laying on his back. He watched with anticipation as Abraham climbed onto the bed with him, a little smirk curling his lip as he moved up, his hands sliding up his legs. He could hardly hold back the whimper he let out as his lovers hands glided up his inner thighs, giving him a squeeze. 

Abraham, feeling mischievous, decided to palm his lovers cock through his pants, which was prominent and warm to the touch. He bites his lip as Hewlett raised his hips to press flush with his palm, needy for any sort of friction. He slowly rubbed his palm into his lovers aching member, making small circles. 

"Ready for this to come off?" He asks, starting to slowly unbutton Hewlett's vest. Edmund nodded vigorously. The Major could hardly stand the heat anymore. He looked up at Abe; whose caring eyes stared back at him. It was nice to feel so loved, and pampered. Finally Abraham removed his vest and shirt, providing him with some much needed cool air. Of course, he knew he was in for a ride as he saw Abe's eyes light up with excitement. Abe was taking off his own shirt now, tossing it to floor as he deemed it worthless for the moment. Edmund gasps softly at Abe's toned figure. Another shiver of delight danced up his back as he pictured Abraham pinning him down firmly. He never thought he'd be admiring another man's body like this, and he was certain Abraham was having a similar experience.

Abraham laid on top of Edmund, taking the submissive man by surprise. Abe slid his hands up his lovers sides, feeling his soft skin and elegant figure. He was thin, and willowy, but Abraham didn't mind, it fact it made him more attractive. He kisses Edmund on the lips, surprised as the Major suddenly bucked his hips up, rutting against him. 

Edmund was desperate as his lover smothered him with kisses, bucking his hips up into Abe's groin. Hewlett let out a soft moan as Abraham started grinding into him as well. A more intense heat was starting to build in his groin, especially after Abe let out a deep groan of pleasure. The Major couldn't stand it anymore, his cheeks and ears hot with lust.

"Abraham..." Edmund called softly, getting Abe's attention as he slid his hands down to Abraham's breeches. The spy got the message, letting Hewlett slide down his pants carefully. The Major gasps softly as his lovers length sprang to attention, at full mast. He shuddered at the thought of being taken by him, wondering what this would feel like. He was still processing this as Abraham went ahead and started to remove Hewlett's pants.

Abe was just as enamored with his lovers length; he didn't care that Edmund was just a bit smaller than himself. He gently took Hewlett's length into his hand, making the Major gasp softly. Abraham watched his lover squirm as he slowly pumped his length. He smirks as Edmund began bucking into his hand eagerly, needy and desperate for any sort of pleasure.

"Hey, do you want to take this further?" Abraham's gentle voice pulled Edmund from his lustful daze, and he tried to gather his thoughts. Well of course he did! Now was a question of some form of lubricant... 

"Y-Yes, just... let me find something." He says softly, reaching under the bed to see if he had stashed a bottle of oil there. Luckily, his fingers met the rim of a bottle, and he quickly snatched it up, handing it to Abraham. Abe was surprised he had procured it so quickly, but gave him a devilish smirk.

"Naughty, you just keep this under the bed where someone could find it?" He asks with a grin. Hewlett blushes brightly, laying back down as he looked up at Abraham. He didn't want to be viewed as naughty, but in a situation like this, perhaps that was a good thing. 

"Yes.~" He purred, watching Abe pull the cork out of the bottle and pour a little of the oil onto his fingers. Hewlett was wary of what his partner was doing, gasping softly as he suddenly spread his legs apart. He was quick to realize where this was going, and to his surprise; a jolt of heat shot up his groin, making his cock twitch. Abraham noticed this, chuckling deeply as he slid between Edmund's legs, pressing a slick finger against his lovers entrance. Hewlett whimpers, gasping at the cool sensation.

"Relax, I've got you Edmund." He assures his partner, gently caressing his thigh as he rubbed circles against his entrance. Hewlett shivers, nodding as he tried to relax, letting his body go limp. The only thing that refused to keep still was his length, throbbing and twitching with every caress. 

Abe slowly presses a finger into Edmund, heat lighting in his groin as his lover let out a sharp moan. Hewlett bucked his hips, his cheeks rosy with lust, and his eyes half closed. Abraham knew Edmund was feeling something intense, and he carefully curled his finger, wondering if he could make Hewlett cry out in pleasure again. To his delight, the Major let out another sharp whimper, his hips stuttering as he tried to buck them.

"Abraham!" Hewlett yelps as his lover slid in another finger, making him feel fuller. This heat in his groin was building fast from the foreign sensation; there was a certain spot that Abraham was stroking that was driving him mad. It felt like fire was lapping at his stomach, making his thighs tense and his body tremble with want. He couldn't take much more of this teasing. He reached down and grabbed Abe's wrist, looking up at him pleadingly.

Abraham saw the lustful need in his lovers eyes, and realized that he was ready. He pulled his fingers out, and grabbed the oil again, pouring a little more oil into his hand to rub it into his length. He glanced at Hewlett, who was patiently waiting for him to finish as he spread his legs wide. Abe's cock twitched as he pressed himself to his lovers entrance, making Hewlett let out another soft whimper. 

"Ready for me?" Abe asks quietly, wanting to make sure. Edmund nods vigorously, canting his hips up into the air as Abraham rubbed himself against his entrance. Finally Abe pressed his tip into Edmund, making Hewlett gasp and clutch at his partner. 

"Yes!" Edmund whines sharply, reflexively wrapping his legs around his lovers waist. Abraham groans deeply, biting his lip as he slowly pushed into Hewlett. The heat and tightness squeezed his length perfectly, making heat and tension climb quickly in his groin. After he was sure Edmund had adjusted, he slowly started to thrust into his heat. Delicious little moans poured from his lovers mouth, and Hewlett eagerly tried to rut into him.

"Faster!" Edmund begged, gasping sharply as his lover's cock rubbed against his sweet spot. He whimpers as Abe picked up his pace, making him squirm with lust as he clung to Abraham, clawing at his back. Abe let out a low growl, sending a shudder of pleasure through him. He wasn't going to last like this. Abraham was so warm, and he felt so full. He cried out sharply as Abe suddenly slammed into his prostate, making him see stars. Abraham huffs, feeling tension quickly building in his stomach as he rolled his hips into Edmund's sweet spot. 

Finally they found a rhythm that worked, both of them clinging to one another. They couldn't be any more connected or in sync, their breathing rising and falling in perfect unison as pleasure sparked within them. It was like a blazing fire that couldn't be put out; a dancing flame that flickered and gleamed. It was beautiful, silver moonlight shining upon them as they released together. Stars sparkled in their eyes as they tiredly clung to each other, trying to catch their breaths. They felt weightless and free, like nothing could hold them down. 

"I love you." Edmund says softly, kissing Abraham on the cheek sweetly. Abe chuckles softly, quickly kissing Hewlett back, on the lips this time.

"I love you too." He purrs, nuzzling into the Major as he pulled a blanket over the both of them. He sighs softly, cuddling up with his partner. He didn't want to move, or be anywhere besides right here. Unfortunately, Hewlett decided to bring up the elephant in the room. 

"I would love to stay here and sleep with you but-- don't you need to be back at the barracks?" He asks, his brow furrowed with worry. Edmund didn't want his partner to get in trouble. He laughs softly as Abe cursed under his breath, swiftly climbing out of bed and starting to frantically get his clothes back on. Edmund shakes his head with amusement, climbing out of bed as well to write a note for the spy. He only bothered to put his pants on, and walked toward his office.

"Abraham, I'll write you a note as a pass. And if your sergeant has a problem with that, he can take it up with me." He says firmly, walking into his office and sitting down at his desk. Abe followed him, full of nervous tension as he buttoned up his shirt. Abraham watched the Major light a candle, and start to write up a note for him. Curiously, he peeked over his lovers shoulder to see what he was writing. 

-  
Private Abraham Woodhull visited me last night to discuss details about the massacre at Lyme he had previously forgotten. Please excuse his absence and allow him to visit me tomorrow in my office at 5:30 am, as I still have much to ask him.   
Major Edmund Hewlett  
-

He chuckles at the note as Hewlett signed it, to show it was official. Hewlett looked up at him, wondering why his partner had scoffed a laugh.

"What? You know as well as I do how strict he is..." He says softly, folding the note shut and taking a stick of wax from a drawer. "It would only make sense to give you a note as an excuse." He says softly, melting wax onto the page and sealing it shut with an official stamp. Abraham glanced at the stamp, and stubbornly fought his spy instincts to snatch it.

"Yeah, you've got a point there." Abe took the note as it was handed to him. He smiles, chuckling as he noticed Hewlett's hair was in even more disarray than it had been in before. Edmund glanced at the lock of hair front of his eyes, and gingerly tucked it back behind his ear. The Major smiled softly as Abraham tucked the note into his jacket and leaned in close, pressing his lips to his own. He melted into the warmth of his touch, and Abraham's hand on his cheek. He wished Abe didn't have to leave, but he knew he would see his love in the morning. The spy pulled away from the kiss, and gently ran his fingers through Edmund's hair, fixing it.

"I love you more than you can possibly imagine." Abraham says with a smirk, starting to walk away, but Hewlett grabbed his hand, stopping him.

"Oh, I don't know-- I think I have a pretty good idea of how much you love me... You never went a day without thinking of me, did you?" The Major asks, curious as he squeezed his lovers hand. Abe squeezed back, a playful fire in his eyes as he brought Hewlett's hand up to his lips, planting a kiss on it.

"Hardly an hour went by without me thinking of you." Abraham says sincerely, his smile warm with passion and happiness. Edmund smiles back, letting his lover's hand go. He watched him leave the office, and listened to him head out of the front door. He was left by himself.

Hewlett sighs softly, still feeling the warmth of Abe's hand on his cheek. He held his own hand in the same place, imagining it was his lovers. He felt so calm and weightless in his presence, like a cloud that drifted over a calm sea. With a spark of inspiration, he realized he could write some poetry for Abraham. He smirks, pulling out another piece of paper and dipping his quill in the ink. He would have to pour his feelings onto the page.

***

Abraham headed back to the barracks in a hurry. He had left his uniform with Townsend, and thankfully he was able to change at his place before heading back to the barracks. He was out of breath as he headed in, note in hand as he shut the door behind him. He swallows, hoping that the sergeant hadn't noticed he was gone. Thundering footsteps from across the room told him he was in deep trouble. He swallowed as he saw his sergeant's furious face, red with rage. Not as scary as Simcoe, but damn close.

"WOODHULL!" The sergeant boomed, suddenly grabbing him by the collar and raising him up. Abe swallowed, doing his best to not show any fear, that would only make things worse.

"Yes serg-" He didn't even get a chance to finish before his superior boomed out again.

"Where the hell have you been?!" He yelled loudly, getting up in Abe's face. The spy clenched his jaw, simply raising his hand to show the sergeant the note Hewlett had written for him.

"I was with Major Hewlett. I was telling him more details about the massacre at Lyme, sir... Of which I was one of the only survivors." Abe explains, hoping the sergeant would take the letter. Thankfully he did, rather snappily and with an irritated groan. He broke the seal after examining it, reading the note. His expression calmed a bit as he read it, though it was a reluctant change in his mood.

"Tch... You're lucky this time Woodhull. But I would rather be informed in advance. You better join the ranks at 7am when they're marching past, or that'll be your hide whipped. Understand?" He asks firmly. Abraham nods curtly.

"Yes sergeant!" Abe says affirmatively, watching the sergeant walk off quickly. He sighs softly, relieved that he wasn't about to get punished. He was thankful Sturridge wasn't making any comment on his absence, he wasn't sure if he could deal with his un-witty or sarcastic remarks today. He headed to his bunk, and climbed onto it, sighing as he laid down on the wooden planks they had to call a bed. 

Maybe it would have been better to sleep with Hewlett; in a nice warm bed with cushion and soft blankets. Not to mention he would have been able to curl up with his lover and stay in his embrace. Abraham couldn't help but imagine nuzzling his face into Edmund's neck. Abe smiles, slowly falling asleep as he thought about his dreamy and compassionate lover. His dreams made him feel like he was floating away; away from his troubles, and away from this bloody war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to call these kinds of fics "Story shifts". Because I'm "Shifting" the story in a slightly different direction, while still following the general storyline of the original plot. 
> 
> (Also forgive me if the smut was sub-par, it's been a month since I last wrote some smut by myself!)


	10. Plots and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraham and Hewlett meet to plan on how to kill the merciless Colonel Simcoe, amongst other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's going to be a lot of Abraham in the next few chapters, and less Hewlett, but I'll try to make things as interesting as possible with both characters, don't worry!

Abraham's dreams teased him as the warm light of the sunrise filtered through the windows. His dreams put him back in Hewlett's soft bed, but not as the dominant one. His mind teased him by showing Hewlett as the domineering Major he could be; tying him down to the bedposts as Abraham was squirming and begging for more. Even as Hewlett's caresses drove him mad, he loved every moment of it in his dream, especially when Edmund praised him for being such a good boy.

His mind tormented him by showing him Hewlett standing over him, looking down at him with lust darkened eyes while his hand rested on the back of Abe's head. He swore he could feel his mouth watering as the rest of the dream melted into nothingness.

***

Abraham was nudged awake, and he groggily looked in the direction of the hand that held his shoulder. Sturridge was grinning at him goofily, chuckling. Abraham sighs as he sat up, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up. He didn't remember his dream. All he knew was that there was an oddly high amount of saliva in his mouth. He swallowed, trying to rid the awful morning breath taste from his tongue.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Joseph teased, patting Abraham on the shoulder. Abe sighs softly, shaking his head as he got up from his bunk and stretched out. He didn't want to deal with Sturridge's comments today, but he didn't really have much of a choice. Joseph spoke up again before Abe got the chance to retort.

"It's 5:20, don't you have somewhere to be? I snuck a peek at the letter you gave the sergeant." He says with a little simper. Abraham curses under his breath. He was right! He had almost forgotten that Edmund had asked him to meet him at 5:30. He quickly grabs his hat and musket, heading for the exit of the barracks.

"Shite- you're right Joseph! I have to go, I'll meet up with you when you're marching past Hewlett's office!" He yells to him, not letting him have the last word. He was out of there quick, as if his pants were on fire. He didn't want to be late, especially not when it came to seeing Edmund. Of course, he could only go so fast while lugging a musket around. People stared at him as he raced down the street, but he didn't care. Let them look; he thought; they'll know I'm headed somewhere important. 

However, a flash of green in the corner of his eye made his heart jolt. Shit. Ranger's were patrolling around. And now they knew he was headed somewhere important. Idiot, he cursed to himself. He should have asked someone to "patrol" with him. Too much work, and the sergeant would never agree... He would have to think of someway to rejoin his regiment without being ambushed or followed. A distraction would be needed. Oh well- he would worry about that once he got to Hewlett's office. For now, he had to worry about making it to Hewlett in one piece; maybe his brilliant lover would have a few ideas on how to distract the Rangers, or give him a signal to ensure he was safe.

He picked up his pace, almost sprinting now as he flew past passerby's and British regulars. He couldn't slow down now, not when Rangers were on his tail. Well he wasn't sure if they were, but he wasn't about to look back and check either. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his lungs were burning, but he pushed forward. He couldn't stop until he was certain he was safe. Abe felt like his legs were going to give out, but the thought of Edmund spurred him onward, making him feel light as a feather.

***

Hewlett glanced out the window of his office, standing beside a telescope. He had brought some of his things from home to his office since he hadn't felt safe at his place; after all he had almost been assassinated there. It was tricky convincing a few guards to help him, but a little bribe never hurt.

Waiting for Abraham was making Hewlett a little tense, and pent up. He hoped his lover would get here okay, and the concern of his sergeant escorting him here to speak with him was another concern. What if he had to talk his way into seeing Abe? What if his sergeant didn't allow him to go at all? He shook his head, pacing around his office as he folded his arms behind his back. Surely with a note from the head of intelligence, there would be no way the sergeant would challenge him. 

"Well if he does challenge me, I'll give him a piece of my mind." He says softly to himself. He was jolted from his thoughts as he heard the bugle of reveille in the distance. He looked at the clock, seeing it was 5:30. Ah, perhaps Abraham wasn't awake yet, maybe that's why he was late. He sighs, wondering how much longer it would be before Abraham got here. Maybe he should have his guards make some tea while he was waiting. Yes, that's a good idea... It would also help calm his nerves. He walks toward his door, opening it and calling out to his guards.

"Jacobs, O'Malley, could you brew a pot of tea for me, please?" He asks politely, hoping they weren't too busy. Jacobs nods, heading into another room to do as the Major asks. Edmund smiles, heading back into his room and sitting down at his desk. He drummed his fingers against his desk, waiting patiently as he laid back in his chair. His mind started to wander, and suddenly reminded him of the night previous with Abraham. 

He shivered as he remembered Abraham's hands on him, caressing him and filling him so perfectly. His stomach tightened as he pictured something much more devious and sinful; himself being the one to pleasure Abraham. He bit his lip guiltily, feeling his length twitch in his breeches. Temptation set in, and he reached down to his length, rubbing himself through his pants as he closed his eyes.

He pictured Abraham beneath him, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and his lips parted ever so slightly with bliss. He could almost feel Abraham's lips pressed against his own, the warmth of his body pressed firmly against him. Maybe he could tie Abe down and tease him by just touching everywhere but his aching member. He could already hear Abe's voice begging him for more, begging for him to touch him, or better yet; fuck him. He didn't often entertain the idea of being dominant, it wasn't exactly in his nature. But with everything that had happened, he had been forced to toughen up a bit. With another shudder, he imagined Abraham kneeling in front of him, holding his hip with one hand while the other slowly pulled off his breeches.

Hewlett let out a quiet yelp as there was a sudden knock on his door, followed by a very familiar voice.

"M-Major Hewlett? I'm here..." Abraham wheezed, sounding out of breath. Hewlett took his hand away from his length quickly, getting to his feet and walking over to the door. His cheeks were still flush with lust, and he wondered if Abraham would notice. He opened the door for Abe, and stepped aside to let him in, observing that he was extremely worn out and gasping for breath. His skin almost seemed to glow from sweat. 

"My god, did you run all the way here?" Edmund asks in shock, shutting the door behind Abraham as he watched his lover take a seat in a chair next to the window. Abe blearily looked over to Hewlett, nodding in affirmation as he still tried to catch his breath; he didn't seem to be gaining any ground. "One might think you were being chased." Hewlett remarks, walking over to his desk and sitting down at it. 

Abraham scoffs, nodding as he tried to find his words to be able to voice them. He wasn't making much progress, only able to focus on his burning lungs, and sore legs; not to mention his heart was pounding in his ears like a drum. He watched Hewlett, seeing that he was patiently waiting for his response.

"I think I was-- B-Being chased that is..." He says, swallowing in the middle of his sentence as his voice cracked. If not for the graveness of the sentence, Edmund would have let a smile slip. "Queen's Rangers, I have a feeling a couple followed me here. I'll need a distraction if I'm to leave here safely." He explains. Hewlett blinks in surprise. Well great, now they had to worry about Simcoe's rangers, and not just the beast himself. Edmund pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think of something he could do as a distraction or a signal.

"Er... we have time to think about that in a moment, for now, we should-" He was cut off as Jacobs suddenly called out, making both the spy and the Major jump in surprise.

"I have your tea sir." He calls to Hewlett. Edmund sighs, getting up and walking over toward the door. Abraham found himself admiring Edmund as he slowly focused on his surroundings again, not distracted by his lungs or tired muscles. However, as his eyes roamed Hewlett's body, he swore he saw a bulge in his lovers pants, though he wasn't sure. He watched his lover open the door and take the tray; which had a teapot and two teacups. As he set the tray down on an extra chair, Abe got the full view of Edmund's arousal. He smirks, but says nothing as he looks up at Hewlett. He had already decided he was going to play coy.

Hewlett was oblivious to the fact that Abe knew, however; too focused on pouring them each a brimming cup of tea. He figured Abraham was thirsty after running the mile or so here. With a smile, he turned and handed Abraham his cup of tea, which was on a little saucer. It took Edmund a moment to realize that Abe was smirking at him.

"What?" Hewlett asks quietly, unsure why Abraham was staring at him. He picked up his own cup of tea, his gaze hardly leaving his partners as he walked around to his desk and took a seat. "Why are you staring?" He asks, picking up his teacup and taking a slow sip of his drink. Abraham let out a soft chuckle, letting his gaze dip down to look at his lover's groin.

"Oh, I don't know. Why do you have that boner?" He asks mischievously, immediately making his lovers cheeks flush bright pink with embarrassment. Abraham couldn't help but grin as the Major set his teacup down, looking up at him with an unreadable stare. It was different; this aura he could feel coming off of Edmund. He seemed more... dominant, today.

"Well, to put things bluntly-- I was in a rut before you got here." Hewlett explains, getting up and approaching his lover slowly. He watched Abraham's eyes roam his body, knowing that he was in a more submissive mood. Or perhaps he was simply tired from the run here, and wanted to do less work. The spy kept smiling at Edmund coyly, teasing him incessantly, subconsciously. He stayed seated for the moment, wondering what Hewlett would do.

"Oh really? I never would have guessed..." Abraham says softly, now looking Edmund in the eyes as he was standing right in front of his chair. He couldn't have gotten up if he wanted to, Hewlett was in the way. "What were you thinking about?" Abe asks, wondering if their fantasies would match up. Hewlett was thoughtful for a moment, remembering his rather naughty visions. Just the thought of them was making heat trickle to his groin again.

"Well, you were on my bed, laying on your back. Spread-eagle with your wrists tied to the bed posts." He began, watching Abraham take an innocent sip of his tea. "I let my hands travel up and down your body, caressing every sensitive spot I can find, repeatedly, slowly, until you're begging for me to make you come." He purrs huskily, keeping his voice low. He grinned as a shudder went up Abraham's back. There was no doubt he had Abe's complete attention.

"That sounds amorous, but we can't do anything like that here." The spy points out, glancing around the room. Edmund knew that was true, they'd need a comfy bed and some rope for something like that. "But while I'm here, is there anything else we can do?" Abraham asks, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a long, slow sip. Edmund bit his lip again, smirking as he remembered the other fantasy in his daydream. He wondered if Abe would be opposed to getting on his knees for him.

"Put down your tea, and I'll tell you what I want you to do." Hewlett says with a husky growl. Heat was throbbing in his groin now, and he wondered if Abraham was going to keep teasing him. Edmund watched as Abe took a final sip of his tea, and set the cup and saucer aside, looking up at him expectantly. The Major smirks, walking over to his desk and leaning back against it. He beckoned to his lover with an alluring finger.

"Come here." He purrs, looking into his lovers eyes. The spy got up slowly, walking up to the Major and stopping in front of him. He was still smiling coyly, waiting for his partner to give him instruction. "Kneel." Edmund commanded, making Abe light up. He could tell his lovers heart was pounding faster now, and he wondered what he was thinking as he sank to his knees. Their gazes were locked together, and they seemed to know exactly what the other wanted.

Abraham's mouth was watering as he pictured Hewlett's length. He slowly brought his hands up to his lovers waist, starting to slide off his breeches. He went slow of course, wanting to tease Edmund as much as possible while he had the chance. He shivers as Edmund's length sprang up as he pulled his pants down. He could hardly wait to make his partner moan with delight. Abe glanced up at the Major as he pressed his lips to his tip, earning a soft whimper from him. His stomach tightened with arousal as he took more of his length into his mouth.

Hewlett groans softly as Abraham slid further down on his aching member, his tongue caressing the sensitive spot under his tip. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Abraham look up at him with lust darkened eyes. Edmund gasps suddenly as Abraham started sucking, his cheeks hollowing as he bobbed his head on his cock.

"A-Abraham..." Hewlett mutters softly, trying to fight the urge to squeeze his eyes shut from the pleasure that bolted to his groin. His thighs tensed and he bit his lip, he wondered for a moment if Abraham had done this before. He figured not, but with the way his lovers tongue was gliding up and down his member, it tempted him to think otherwise. His lips were wrapped tight around him, and he reached down, setting a hand on the back of his partner's head. He started to guide his speed and position. Heat was building fast in his groin, and he wasn't sure how long he would last.

"Such a good boy..." Hewlett whispers, trying to keep his voice quiet so no one would hear them. Abraham was just as indisposed, his length was throbbing with arousal as he bobbed his head on his lovers cock. He loved every moment of this; his lovers sweet little whimpers that couldn't be held back; the weight of his cock on his tongue; and now Edmund's hand was tangled in his hair. He loved the tingle of his partner's fingertips against his scalp, almost tickling him. Abraham grabbed his hips firmly, suddenly deep throating him. A sharp gasp cut through the near silence, and Edmund's hips stuttered, tempted to thrust into him. Abe could tell Hewlett wasn't going to last much longer.

Hewlett shivers, watching Abraham look up at him as he suddenly started swallowing around his length. He tensed, and his hand grasped at his partner's hair. He was desperate for something to hold onto, and Abraham was the first thing he could grab. He could feel the heat and tension climbing in his stomach, threatening to explode as Abe let out a soft groan. Finally he couldn't hold it anymore, and came hard into his lovers mouth.

"Y-Yes!" The Major cried out in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut as a wave of pleasure washed over him, making him see stars. Abraham sighs contently, pulling off Edmund's cock and looking up at him with a smug grin, swallowing and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Hewlett needed a moment to catch his breath, while Abraham seemed completely fine; if still lustful and needy. "That was magnificent..." Hewlett mutters softly, smiling at his partner as Abraham kissed at his neck and ears affectionately. He still seemed up for more.

"Yeah, and I'm wondering what you'll do if I get you riled up again.~" Abraham purrs with a devious little smirk. Edmund shivered, eager to see what his partner had in mind as he took off his overcoat, draping it over the back of his chair, while Abraham haphazardly tossed his across the room. Hewlett let out a soft growl as Abraham dared to palm his length again. 

"Oh, I'll show you if you keep it up like this." The Major warns, biting his lip as Abraham started to unbutton his vest. His heart was pounding again, and he was sure this would evolve into- The door suddenly swung open to reveal O'Malley, who was carrying a little tray of biscuits. This sudden intrusion, of course, made Hewlett yelp in surprise, staggering backwards only to topple over his desk and land in a heap on the floor. Abraham winced at the loud thud that came with the Major's back hitting the floor. The guard just seemed shocked that this had happened, unsure why they weren't wearing their red coats, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Hewlett let out a pained groan, putting his arm up as if to ask for help. 

"O'Malley... How many times have I reminded you to knock?" He asks, glaring at his guard as Abraham helped pull him to his feet. O'Malley thought for a moment, setting the tray of biscuits down on a chair beside the door.

"This once sir." He says honestly, glancing at Abraham. Abe looked away, helping straighten Hewlett's clothes as the Major dusted himself off with an irritated huff.

"That's one time too many, damn it!" Hewlett cursed. Abraham had to refrain from snorting. He found it rather cute when Hewlett got upset like this. O'Malley seemed to find it intimidating though, and he quickly exited the room, shutting the door on his way out. Edmund sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while Abraham started to chuckle under his breath. 

"You're cute when you get testy." Abe says with a little smirk. Hewlett's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he folded his arms, pouting. He wasn't cute! He was simply doing his best to be intimidating without getting too angry.

"I am not cute." He says softly, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. He didn't like being teased like this... Abraham shakes his head with amusement, walking over to the tray of biscuits and grabbing one for each of them. He offered the biscuit to Hewlett, a little smirk on his face.

"Yes you are, and I'll bet you're hungry too." He temptingly waves the biscuit, reminding Edmund that he hadn't eaten since last night, at around 6. His stomach growled as another reminder. He sighs, accepting the biscuit and taking a bite of it. Abraham watched him for a moment, wondering if the Major got enough to eat. It wasn't a question of whether or not he could afford it, because clearly he could. Maybe he just forgot to? Hewlett seemed to sense he was going to ask this, looking up at his partner.

"I just don't realize I'm hungry until I'm starving." He admits, breaking his usually impeccable etiquette by talking with his mouth full. Abraham chuckles softly, watching Hewlett eat the rest of the biscuit rather quickly. Abraham nibbled at his biscuit, having a similar problem. It was hard to think of food when they still had other things to worry about; like the Rangers who had followed him here; and the beast himself, Simcoe. 

"You're thinking about Simcoe." Hewlett points out, noticing the way Abraham had been staring off into space while eating. Abraham blinks, bringing himself back into the present.

"Er... Yeah, hard to take your mind off of it when there's a constant reminder just around the corner-- literally." He adds, glancing out the window. He winced as he saw two Queens Rangers standing guard in the alley. Great, his only escape route. Hewlett chews his lip, thinking for a moment. A distraction or a signal seemed to be their only options. Now, he knew Abe's regiment would be marching by around 7am, which would be their only window of opportunity. 

"I think a signal would be your best bet, and perhaps it doubles as a distraction. Something to pull the Rangers attention away from you, while telling you when it's safe to go. But what..." He chews his lip, pacing around the room to try and think of something. Abraham sighs, watching the gears turn in his lovers head as he tried to think of something himself. Suddenly an idea popped into their heads, and they both perked up to look at each other.

"Chamber pot!" They declared in unison. They paused, realizing what they said at the same time. They both snicker and chuckle at the silly coincidence, but quickly dismiss it.

"I like the way you think." Hewlett jokes suddenly, a witty grin plastered on his face. Abraham snorts, unable to hold back the smile that lightened his expression. They giggled about it for a moment longer before Hewlett changed the subject.

"I wrote you some poetry, would you like to read it?" Hewlett asks quietly, looking down at his desk and picking up a sheet of paper with some poems written on it. Abraham perked up, leaning against Hewlett's desk as he watched Edmund walk over to a chair by the window. He nods, folding his arms patiently as he waited for Hewlett to read them. He honestly couldn't wait to hear them.

"Yeah, of course I want to hear what you wrote me!" He says excitedly, his eyes twinkling. The Major smiles, taking a seat in the chair and settling in to read the first poem:

-  
Needless Doubt

Your lips are pure bliss,  
It's a dangerous kiss,  
Though I crave the danger you thrive in.  
Your hands in mine,  
Are just so divine,  
Though I fear our love is a sin.  
-

Hewlett finished reading the first poem, glancing up at Abraham to see that he was completely entranced. Edmund felt his cheeks flush, and he continued reading. His heart felt warm and light with love for his partner. Abraham was in a trance as he listened to Edmund read, he hadn't expected him to be good at poetry as well. Hewlett was smart, interesting, sweet, kind, well read, and now he was good at poetry? What else would Abe be surprised with?

-  
Remember

Remember, the night under the stars?  
These feelings, can only be ours.  
Remember, how we were both in a haze?  
We shan't forget it, for all of our days.  
I remember, your gaze deeper than the sea,  
And I know all the power you hold over me.  
-

Abraham sighs softly, leaning back against the the desk as he listened to the poem. He did remember that first night they had under the stars, very fondly in fact. They were both drunk off their rockers, but he knew he would never forget the way Hewlett had looked at him with such admiration. It hadn't been love quite yet, but it had evolved into that over time.

-  
Certainty

We know our colors, of blue, and of red,  
But even so, we know not what lies ahead.  
Your gaze is cerulean, that beautiful hue,  
I look in your eyes, and I know what to do.  
-

Abraham sighs happily, grinning as he admired his lovers work. It got him thinking about what Edmund thought of him, and silently he wondered what Edmund was thinking while he had been writing these lovely poems. He was almost disappointed when he realized that was all Edmund had written.

"Oh- Are you finished? I um... I thought they were beautiful, all of them." He says softly, walking over to Edmund and leaning down to plant a little kiss on Edmund's cheek. Hewlett blushed brightly, chuckling softly. He was bashful now, somewhat embarrassed at his own writing, even if he subconsciously knew it was good.

"Yes, that's all I could write before I was too tired to go on." He admits, folding up the paper and setting it aside. "Which one did you like the most?" He asks curiously, picking up his cup of tea and taking a sip of it. Abraham smiles, sighing contently as he thought of which one he liked the best.

"The last one. It had two themes, color, and then certainty- which was the title. That ones the best. And-- obviously it was beautiful." He says softly, unable to find his words. Sometimes he found it hard to speak when his thoughts were clouded by Edmund. The Major chuckles softly, taking another generous sip pf his tea. He loved how flustered his partner got at his question.

"I'm glad you loved all of them, I really liked the last one too." He says softly. Both of them were quiet for a moment, simply looking at one another while admiring them and wondering what they were thinking. Abraham glanced at the clock, wondering what time it was. He frowns as he sees it was almost 6 o'clock.

"I hate to ruin the moment, but we need a plan to kill Simcoe." He says softly, starting to pace around the room slowly. Hewlett sighs, knowing his partner was right. Whether they liked it or not, it was a mandatory topic to discuss now, before Simcoe had the chance to kill them first.

"I'm afraid it's not so easy to plot something like this, much less execute a plan that might work." The Major says softly, chewing his lip as he stared off into space. Both of them were deep in thought, trying to figure out the best plan to slay the immortal beast. Abraham started to form an idea, looking over to Hewlett.

"A buddy of mine in the regiment, Sturridge, was talking to me about Colonel Simcoe. Said he frequents Holy Grounds. That could be our place to get him." He implores to Edmund, starting to describe a series of events to the Major.

Night had already overtaken the city, and lamps were the only haven from the darkness. Holy Ground was bustling with activity this late in the night, crowded with a slew of characters, almost none of them virtuous at heart. Abraham knew he would be able to slink around in the darkness without much problem. And with the disguise of a redcoat, he wouldn't seem out of place if he was noticed.

If Simcoe lived among his men, surely he had other rangers around him that could be used as a distraction by some means. Money is a good soldier, he reminded himself. Perhaps he could convince a kid to pick a Rangers pocket for a shilling or two. Once the Ranger was chasing after the kid, he could slip out of the darkness and shoot Simcoe! Of course, he would have to play it off like an accident.

"How do you know Simcoe won't shoot back?" Hewlett asks, not convinced this plan was going to work. He wanted to give Abraham as much benefit of the doubt as possible, but he also wanted him to stay alive. Abraham sighs, picturing a scenario where Simcoe sat up and shot him. He winced at the thought. Not ideal... He cracked his knuckles against his chest, while Edmund calmly took a sip of his tea.

"How do you know my shot won't kill him?" Abraham asks, walking over to Hewlett's desk. He wasn't that bad of a shot, surely he could hit the Colonel from a short distance. Edmund rolls his eyes. It wasn't exactly a matter of killing Simcoe, it was staying alive in the first place. What if Simcoe's men shot at him?

"How do you know his men won't shoot?" He asks firmly, reminding Abraham that Simcoe's men were almost as ruthless as the man himself. Even with an apology, he was certain Simcoe's men would fire. Abraham silently pictured the scenario, playing it through his head. With an exasperated huff, he slumped down into Hewlett's chair, looking up at the ceiling. Well, there went his plan.

Hewlett saw the defeated look on his face, and sighed as he realized he sort of put Abraham down. Feeling a little guilty, he tried to think of something himself. An approach with guns was extremely risky, but perhaps a more sneaky and conniving plan would be better for a man like Simcoe.

"What about poison?" The Major proposes, looking over at his partner hopefully. Abraham seemed intrigued, curious to see what scenario Hewlett would come up with.

Hewlett described a party, in rather remarkable detail. General Clinton was holding a party, where he and a slew of other high ranking officers were about to hold a toast in his honor. This included Benedict Arnold, and of course, Simcoe. Now, when asked what they wanted to drink, Hewlett would offer to check the freshness of the sherry. Taking the bottle and swirling it, he would use a dose of poison tucked into his sleeve, and carefully pour it into the bottle.

He would pretend to sniff it, and set it back on the tray for the servant to pour into glasses. And then, when they all toasted to war, they would all drink, except of course, for Hewlett, who also had sherry. When Simcoe took a drink, Hewlett described the series of events that followed, with a touch of satisfaction. Simcoe writhing on the floor while the other officers tried to help him.

"They'll examine the bottle, Edmund... And you'll be shot." Abraham points out, his brow furrowed with intense thought. Edmund imagined the scene as he took a sip of his tea, almost hearing the shot of the pistol. He winced at the thought of it, but found the notion absurd. He wasn't a complete idiot...

"I wouldn't leave powder on the glass." He says softly, crossing his legs to try and get more comfortable. Abraham was quick to retort.

"And Simcoe wouldn't drink first." He points out. Hewlett sighs, realizing that Simcoe was smarter than to drink first. And perhaps he wouldn't even pick a different drink. Abraham pinched the bridge of his nose; talking about this was almost giving him a headache.

"Perhaps not, but your scenario is-- they wouldn't execute me on the spot." Hewlett points out. Not that it would be better if he was tried and killed elsewhere. Abraham shakes his head, taking his hand away from his face.

"No, no, you'd get the whole firing line after they traced the poison back to you." He stared at nothing, but the sound of distant marching started to become audible. Hewlett's ears perked up at this as well, realizing that Abraham had to leave. Abe glanced at the clock, and swiftly got up, seeing it was 6:58. He had to go now. "We'll have to pick this up tomorrow." Hewlett sighs, feeling somewhat hopeless as he watched Abraham walk over to his coat and pick it up off the floor, where he had carelessly tossed it earlier. Simcoe still seemed invincible, and it also appeared like he was divinely protected by something or someone... No matter what they did, he just refused to die, and if he did die, it would include the expense of another life. It looked like they were out of options...

"Should we survive to see it..." Hewlett remarked morbidly, looking up at his lover as he slipped on his coat. Abraham looked back at Hewlett with a sad smile. He knew the Major was just a bit testy from talking about this tense subject.

"We'll get him, and we'll live." He promises, opening the door to Hewlett's office and calling out to one the guards. "Hey, O'Malley, I need you to empty the chamber pot in the street when I go out to join my mates. You need to signal me when it's safe to go." He explains. At first, the guard seemed extremely confused, looking at Abraham like he had three heads. Hewlett sighs, shaking his head.

"Do as he says O'Malley." He orders, watching Abraham straighten his coat and put on his hat. O'Malley shrugged it off, walking off to grab the chamber pot like Abraham had asked. Finally Abe seemed ready to go. 

Edmund sighs, feeling a little guilty to be leaving Abraham with a sarcastic and bitter remark. He got up, walking up to Abraham and pulling him away from the door so he could give him a quick kiss on the lips. Abraham gasps softly at the sudden affection, but melted into it, closing his eyes as Hewlett's lips pressed gently against his own. They stayed this way for a few seconds before Hewlett pulled away. Edmund's eyes were full of love and admiration.

"I love you." Hewlett whispers softly, smiling at Abe sweetly. The spy grins, planting an extra little kiss on the Major's lips before starting to pull away. Hewlett sighs, watching him go with a bit of bittersweet happiness. He hoped Abraham would be alright while he was away.

"I love you too." Abe whispers back, heading out of the room quickly. "Ready with the chamber pot?" He asks O'Malley, slinging his bag of ammo over his shoulder as he headed down the hall and toward the stairs. 

"Right away." The guard responds, heading to a different staircase that led to another door. Abe took a deep breath as he headed down the steps. His heart had been calmer with Edmund, but now it was pounding again as he opened the door a crack. He peered through the opening like a weasel ready to dart into more cover; if only to avoid the hawks stalking him.

He heard the contents of the chamber pot hit the ground, and he quickly ran out, seeing his regiment marching by. Smoothly, he joined Sturridge's side, for once relieved to be in his company. He saw the green uniform's of Rangers out of the corner of his eye, wanting to smirk as he realized he had outwitted them. However, he could sense Sturridge grinning at him, and he knew he was in for an earful.

"Up before reveille?" Sturridge reminds him, grinning like the daft idiot he was. Abraham sighs, trying to focus on marching as he gave a half-hearted response; anything to shut Joseph up.

"Early bird gets the worm." He says softly, staring dead ahead. His mind was more focused on finding another plan to kill Simcoe. He almost didn't hear Sturridge's response:

"Must be some bird." His dim-witted friend remarked, giving him his typical shit-eating grin. It took Abraham a moment to process what this meant. Wait- what the hell was it supposed to mean anyway? He looked over at Sturridge with confusion, wondering if this was a joke at him being a molly. Did he know? Surely he didn't and was messing around... He shook his head, marching onward. 

He couldn't be focused on meaningless things like Sturridge's jokes and comments. Right now he needed to worry about himself, Edmund, and killing that murderous bastard; Simcoe.

***

Even though he tried to only worry about killing Simcoe, and loving Edmund, he still had duties to attend to at the barracks, like his chore, which Sturridge affectionately labeled: Shit patrol. In all honesty he hated this duty, but with his occupation, having Sentry duty was a death sentence. A Ranger would be able to easily pick him off, and he couldn't have that. The only reason he might want Sentry duty would be to go somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, and for right now, he didn't have much reason to be sneaking off for spying reasons.

He wrinkled his nose at the awful stench of the shit buckets in the privy, taking them out of their places to be emptied and then be promptly replaced. Sturridge was especially talkative today, just one more thing to get on his nerves. 

"I can't believe you're still on shit patrol! If I was hobnobbing with the quartermaster--" Joseph began, but Abraham quickly cut him off.

"I asked for this, Sturridge. It reminds me of the farm." He explains with exasperation, hoping to shut Joseph up, but it only seemed to egg on his comments. Even if he was associating with the higher-ups, he doubted that would excuse him from duties like this.

"So does swiving a sow, but I don't see you doing that." Sturridge jokes crudely, and Abraham winced at the comment simultaneously as he wrinkled his nose at the smell of shite. He picked up his buckets, starting to carry them off. "Maybe that's why you sneak off to Holy Ground?" Sturridge grins in a dopey way, following after him as he mooed mockingly. Uhg, God damnit Sturridge... 

"No, I like to get away from the barracks. Get some fresh air." Abraham explains, carrying his buckets up the stairs and down the hall. He wasn't about to admit that he was scoping out places to kill Simcoe, or was visiting Edmund in secret at his office.

"Right. Well, I'm hoping to pass this freshness off to the new man." Joseph comments suddenly. Abraham took pause at this, wondering why Sturridge knew there was someone new coming into their regiment. Typically they got a new recruit and weren't informed until they showed up at the barracks.

"New man?" Abe turned to face Sturridge curiously. He hoped his acquaintance would know the story. Thankfully it seemed like he did.

"Defector, they say." Joseph whispered, the same grin on his face like always. Abraham now wondered if this was gossip and hearsay, or actual facts that he had come across. Knowing Sturridge, it was a 50/50 coin toss. "Came across yesterday. The shite rolls downhill, God willing." Joseph muttered with a simper. Abraham wondered for a moment if this was the man Tallmadge had planned to plant into the ranks. It could be, though he couldn't be sure until he met the man. Before he had much more time to process anything, he heard Cicero's voice calling out to him.

"Private Woodhull," Cicero began, making Abe turn to face him in surprise. He hadn't expected to see him here, and in a uniform no less. "General Arnold requests you at his house." He finished. Abraham could feel his heart pounding again. A meeting with the traitorous General? Christ, what else do I need to be worried about? He asked himself this as he clenched his jaw.

"Why does everyone love you?" Sturridge asks loudly, clearly he was jealous that Abe was getting all of the attention. Abraham on the other hand, wished he could get away from all these eyes on him, and slink away into the darkness. 

But he knew he could get caught there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent half an hour on those poems, you're welcome. :)


	11. New Day, New Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy suddenly makes an outlandish request, and Abraham has decided to twist it into a plan to kill Simcoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I obviously will be skipping a few scenes so I don't bore you guys to tears, but don't worry, the ones I skip won't be too exciting! You'll always get exposition! :)
> 
> Also the next chapter *might* be much longer, just a heads up!

Abraham took a deep breath as he walked behind Cicero, who was leading him to Benedict Arnold's home. His heart was pounding, even though they were moving at a leisurely pace. He couldn't even begin to comprehend why the traitor wanted to see him in the middle of the day. He wasn't complaining that he was getting pulled away from his duties. But Abe feared that he was being pulled away from his duties to be confronted about his work as a spy. There were too many possibilities that were running through his head. He had no idea how much Arnold knew, especially as a traitor. 

He looked up at the doorway of the home, clenching his jaw as he prepared himself to meet the the General. Hewlett blipped into his thoughts, and Abe wondered if he was going to see him again. He felt the hair on the back of his neck raise. What if he was already breaking his promise? Was he going to survive the day? Cicero opened the door and walked in with Abraham, motioning to the office.

"The General is right this way." The boy explains. Abraham glanced around as he shut the door behind him, still incredibly anxious. Even so, he forced himself to take a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. If this was a simple meeting, he had to make sure he looked innocent; he would have to remain calm. However, as he walked over to where Cicero had gone off to, he found a young woman standing in the place he was sure he would find Benedict Arnold. She was dressed in a very ornate coral dress, and she seemed completely relaxed, her hands clasped together in front of her.

"Mr. Woodhull, thank you for coming to my home today." She greets softly. Abraham gave a curt "yes" as a response, glancing over at Cicero inquisitively. He wondered where Arnold was, and why he had been called here early, if the General simply wasn't here yet. "As well as to York City to capture my husband." Her voice was deadpan, and Abraham looked at this young woman in shock. This was Arnold's wife; Peggy. He swallowed, shocked to hear this coming from such an innocent looking woman. Well, perhaps he should have seen something like this coming. 

He raced for an answer in his head, wondering if this was some sort of sick joke as he watched Abigail walk over to stand by Cicero and Peggy. He could hear the clock ticking in the silence of the moment. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock... The clock repeated, and Abraham tried to slow his beating heart. He couldn't be anxious right now.

"I want to help in any way I can." Peggy adds quietly. Abraham saw how serious she looked, but somehow he had to save face. This was either a trap or a joke, and either way he had to play innocent. He tried to manage a laugh, scoffing as he smiled nervously. 

"Is this a joke?" He asks, looking between the other three people in the room, hoping to God that this was a cruel an unusual jape. "Am I being pranked here?" He asks again. Abigail was quick to give the response he had been dreading.

"No prank. She means it, or my boy would be dead, and so would you." Abigail says gravely. Abraham swallowed, looking between Abigail and Cicero before Peggy spoke up again.

"In recognition of my service, I expect a guarantee from General Washington. The Shippen family will suffer no reprisals during or after this war... Benedict is not the man I married. When I took his hand he was a General in the Continental Army. His treason will not stain my family or my child." She states firmly. 

Abraham sighs, thinking this over as she gave her spiel. Washington probably would pardon the Shippen family as long as he got Arnold. That was all the man seemed to care about; getting the man who betrayed him. Still, he had to know what Peggy was planning on offering up in terms of information if this was going to work. He had honestly almost forgotten that he had come here to help kill Benedict Arnold in the first place, along with Simcoe. 

"What are you offering?" Abraham asks quickly, looking back up at Peggy as he realized his gaze had drifted away from her.

"I know his schedule. Cicero told you about his nightly routine." Abraham glanced at Cicero curiously, figuring that this was a slip up on the boy's part that she had found their plan out. After all, he had been incredibly loud at that party while discussing Arnold. 

"Do you plan on taking him here at the house?" Peggy asks curiously. Abraham chewed his cheek, trying think through the smoke of tension in the air. He took a deep breath, turning away as he ran his hand over his hair idly. Could they take Arnold here? There was a lot of variables to consider... He clenches his jaw. He didn't want to take out Arnold and not be able to finish Simcoe. Wait...

"At the house?" He muttered softly, starting to picture a series of events in his head. Maybe he could take out two birds with one stone, send Arnold away with his wife to somewhere more vulnerable while he stayed here, poised and ready to take Simcoe out, like a snake coiled up to strike.

He imagined Arnold and Peggy leaving the home, and Cicero inviting Simcoe inside. Simcoe would be expecting to meet Arnold, and Cicero would lead him to the couch facing the fireplace. He would brandish a knife and a pillowcase, hidden behind a wall in preparation to pounce. Coming out of hiding, he could already feel his heart pounding in his ears, adrenaline making his heart feel light. He would put the pillowcase over the beasts head, and drive the blade into his neck once, no- twice. He could already picture scarlet blossoming through the fabric, soaking it with red ichor.

Quickly he shook himself from the fantasy, looking over at Peggy who had been patiently waiting for a response. He had to come up with a story however, if he was going to pull this off.

"No, no the house won't work. If the General is taken from here, they'll investigate, ask questions of the household... Whom we know can't keep a secret." He looked over at Cicero, and the boy dipped his head with a bit of shame. Looking back to Peggy, he firmly planted his plan. 

"We need to get him out of the house. If you get him to the wharf, we'll be waiting for a boat and men to take him across the water." He barely was able to finish before Peggy immediately seemed to agree.

"When?" She asks quickly.

"What?" Abe blinks, thrown off by her quick response. Really? Just like that?

"I can arrange a carriage ride. Just the two of us. When will you be ready?" Peggy seemed to be in a hurry. Abraham sighs, staring off into space as he tried to think. It would take time to get everything prepared, it couldn't be immediately, no matter how badly he wanted this to happen tonight or tomorrow.

"I need to check with my people. How long will it take for you to arrange the ride? Three days?" He asks, hoping that this would be an acceptable amount of time, but already he could tell she was in a rush. "Two?" He proposed.

"One." She states gravely. Abraham swallowed, looking over to Cicero and Abigail one more time. Well, it seemed like this was going to happen sooner than he hoped. Now he would have to rush to get everything together. He hated it when things worked out like this. Everyone in the room was tense, except for Peggy. He balled his hands into fists nervously as he nodded to her. 

Simcoe was going to die.

***

Abraham waited in the cold, dark cellar of Rivington's coffee house. He hated that he had to ask Townsend to meet him here, but he didn't have much other choice. Everything was happening much faster than he had hoped, and he barely had time to do anything without making his heart race with anxiousness.

He had been given latrine duty every night that week, and he needed to figure out how to get Sentry duty. Surely it would take a lot of trading, bribing, and begging to get Sentry in place of latrine. It was the most hated job, and of course, he had gotten stuck with it because he opened his big fat mouth trying to shut Sturridge up. He only managed to get Sunday after a bit of bribery...

Champe had turned up in the middle of it all, the man Tallmadge had been planning to plant in the ranks with him. However, this new man was incredibly inexperienced, and quick to jump on a plan, not in a few days, but immediately. He was completely nerve-wracking, but Abe had no choice other than to work with what his friend had given him; and that was an aggressive and impatient asshole.

Now, he was leaning against a dirty, damp wall; waiting for Townsend to come down and join them for a little chat. Bitterly, Abraham looked over at Champe across the room, who was staring off into space while picking at his fingers. He tried to ignore it, but he could hear his nails clicking as he picked at them. Uhg... 

Thankfully, he didn't have to listen to this much longer; as he heard Townsend open the cellar doors, and walk down the steps. He stayed in the darkness though, just in case it wasn't Robert who had come down to meet them. He could see the light of a lantern, and he considered peeking out of cover, until the Quaker spoke up.

"Woodhull?" Robert called quietly, sounding nervous. Abe finally came out of his cover, revealing himself from the shadows. The light of the lantern bathed the cellar in a warm yellow light.

"I'm here." He announces somewhat quietly, facing Robert. Townsend seemed reluctant to meet here, but was trying to play it off.

"I got your note, why are we meeting--" Townsend froze as Champe suddenly came out of hiding, silently and without announcing his presence. Clearly it had scared the shit out of Townsend. Abraham winces as he realized he forgot to tell Robert about Champe.

"He's a friend, Tallmadge sent him. He's here to get Arnold." He explains curtly, and with a touch of bitterness. Champe was only after Arnold, and he didn't seem to care about keeping himself, or anyone else safe. He wanted to get the traitor at any cost; but Abraham wasn't prepared to pay that tax.

"He doesn't know that?" Champe asks in surprise. Abraham sighs, looking up at the new man with a scowl.

"I told you, if you had just waited like I asked..." Abraham began, trying to think of what to say next until Champe interrupted his thoughts, impatient as always...

"You were supposed to know that I was coming." Champe almost seemed threatening, and Abraham looked at him warily. He could tell Robert was tense as well. 

"I wasn't told." Townsend explains, looking over to Abraham to explain. Abe sighs.

"I was supposed to tell him. I forgot. I apologize." He says softly, looking between the two other spies. Champe was not backing down, he had a one track mind.

"You send the signal, correct?" The new man asked quietly. "Through the Gazette? That's you?" He continued. Abraham was getting sick of Champe, and he sure as hell hated his attitude. 

"That's correct." Abraham answers quickly.

"I was asking him." Champe dismisses Abe quickly. Abraham cleched his jaw. He wanted more than anything to punch this guy in the face right now. Well- almost anything. "Sergeant John Champe, 2nd Partisan Corps." John put his hand out for a a handshake, but Robert wisely kept his hands to himself. Abraham watched tensely, putting his hand up to his mouth in thought. 

"I wasn't told your name, and I won't ask it." Champe says quietly. Abraham figured he was trying to gain Townsend's trust. "I'm here to tell you that your message was received and appreciated. And I need you to send a new signal. A special one." Champe explains vaguely. Abraham's heart was starting to pound again, with anxiousness and frustration. This was going to freak him out quickly if he had to put up with much more of this.

"Special how?" Townsend asks, silently analyzing Champe. Abraham could tell that the Quaker hated this man just as much as he did.

"Place the number three in the advertisement. That will tell them to be here three nights from the publish date. We take the traitor this Thursday." John finished. Abraham took pause. Thursday? No... no he couldn't work with that. If it wasn't Sunday, he wouldn't be able to take Sentry duty at Arnold's home and take Simcoe out for good.

"What?" Abe walked closer, nervously fiddling with his hands as he looked up at Champe. He needed an explanation. At least he could count on John to give that to him quickly.

"Arnold brought me by his home to show it off, and I had a look about." He explains, soft spoken. "You were right about the outhouse, it's perfect." He went on. Abraham had to slow Champe down. There was too much happening all at once, and he couldn't focus, much less explain why he couldn't execute this plan on Thursday.

"Hold-- hold on." He made John stop for a moment, trying to get a word in.

"The plan is we wait till midnight, get into his garden, and knock him out. It's three blocks from an abandoned dock. We'll be met with a boat." Abraham tried to wrap his head around this plan. Sure, it was sound, but it didn't work with his schedule, and if it was done this way, he couldn't get Simcoe. "Woodhull, I'll need your help hauling Arnold on account of my arm." He says softly, as if trying to be polite. This man may be an ally to Abraham, but he couldn't help but see him as an enemy because he was interfering with his plan. 

"No." Abraham says firmly. He had dealt with enough of Champe's bullshit already, he wasn't about to deal with more. "No no no no no..." He says, trying to reason things out in his head. Did he even have a good excuse for why it wouldn't work, without giving away his plan to kill Simcoe?

"This is Major Tallmadge's plan, and we are to follow it." John says firmly. Abraham gritted his teeth, glaring up at Champe.

"Well, Tallmadge isn't here. We are." He with a scowl. "Thursday is too soon." He says quickly. Clearly speaking as fast as he could would be the only way the new spy would understand him, or acknowledge what he said.

"What's wrong?" Townsend asks suddenly, analyzing Abraham closely. Abe winced as he realized the Quaker was scrutinizing him. Don't say anything... Please. Abraham pleaded in his head.

"Is it Hewlett?" Robert guesses incorrectly. Abraham shook his head, glaring at the Quaker for mentioning him. Idiot, why would you mention a British Major in front of this bastard?

"No." Abraham says quickly. He still needed to speak with Edmund about his plan, he reminded himself. 

"Who's Hewlett?" Champe asks quickly. Abraham knew the new man would be questioning him about this. Thanks a lot Townsend, he curses the Quaker in his head. 

"It's not Hewlett. There's nothing to worry about with him. He doesn't know anything, I'm sure of it." He says softly, giving Townsend another look; one that told him to keep his mouth shut. That wasn't a lie, since he hadn't told the Major his plan just yet. However, Champe was immediately suspicious, and looked Abraham up and down.

"What is going on here?" He asks softly, though a hint of malice started to enter his tone. Abraham's heart was beating faster now, and he wondered if this was going to escalate into a fight. 

"Nothing. You just got here, and if you keep charging ahead like this, you're gonna get us all killed." Abraham said with a snarl. He had only just finished his sentence when Champe suddenly grabbed him by the collar, and forced him backward, slamming him into the wall. Abraham winced at the pain in his spine from being forced up against the brick. 

He was staring into Champe's venomous gaze now, but hardly any emotion showed. His brow never furrowed, his lips never curled in a snarl or a smile. He could feel the new spies breath on his neck, and he hated how close he was. This was a level of closeness he only wanted with Hewlett.

"Arnold is the job that I've come for. And I will see it done. You botch that, I will kill you." He says in a whisper. Abraham felt a chill go up his spine. For a moment, he saw a flicker of Simcoe in this man. He was dangerous, and ruthless. He needed to be avoided at all costs if Abe's plan was going to succeed. "Clear?" Champe asks quietly. 

Abraham pushed Champe's hand off, hardly giving him the satisfaction of a frown. He hated this man about at much as Benedict Arnold. Even so, Abe knew they were on sides of the same coin. They both wanted their enemies dead, at almost any cost. Champe looked over to Townsend, his voice a normal tone now.

"Will there be any issue signaling?" The new spy asks. Abraham knew the Quaker wouldn't dare challenge this man, especially after he had seen the violent display of "dominance".

"None whatsoever." Townsend says, ever the pacifist. Abraham almost smiled as he saw the Quaker's face twitch with a hint of frustration. Champe nods, looking back at Abraham. Abe looked down and away. He didn't want to meet his gaze. It was so full of hate for Arnold, but it leaked into the very air he occupied. Abe didn't want to be in John's presence any longer than he had to be.

"Then Thursday it is." Champe decided. Abe sighs, staring off into space as he tried to think. He had to plan this in a hurry. He needed to get Sentry duty for Thursday, and maybe the days beforehand so he could speak to Hewlett. He needed to find a way to get Simcoe to Arnold's house, and one way was using his connections. 

***

It was Thursday now, and he had been forced to tie up loose ends with bribes and trades, desperate to get Sentry duty for that night. Still, Abe was negotiating with his fellow soldiers to make sure they were happy with him getting Sentry tonight.

"So, Williams, you take Reid's cooking duty, Reid you take my latrine duty. Two of you split a bottle of rum, I take William's guard duty tonight." Abraham reasons out his plan, and everyone seemed to be in agreement. Sturridge suddenly jumped in.

"With me." He adds quickly. Abraham looked over at Joseph, who was grinning dopily as usual.

"And you get your own rum." Abraham says quickly. He had to keep everyone happy, besides, he might as well leave them with a bottle of rum after leaving when he killed Simcoe.

"Sold." Sturridge says with a little smirk. Abraham looked back at the board, running through his plan one more time. He still needed to talk with Hewlett and make sure his plan was going to work, and have him send Simcoe a little letter, disguised as an invite from Benedict Arnold.

"Did I just hear you slough off duty in exchange for rum?" Champe's voice behind him made a chill run up his spine, but he did his best not to show his discomfort, looking back at the new spy. He didn't really want to answer, but tried to think of something to say.

"Where's my share?" John asks quietly. Abraham sighs, of course the new man wanted to piggyback on his work. Greedy bastard... Still, he needed to talk with Champe and tell him there was a change of plans.

"I'll sort this. Come on." He gestures over to the other side of the room, hoping to speak to him with some margin of privacy. Champe followed Abraham over to a quieter part of the room, both of them were looking around to make sure no one was listening to them. Of course, John was the first to speak up.

"Why are you switching to guard duty tonight? I need you at the back of the house, not the front." Champe says firmly, though his soft spoken voice hardly got his emotion across. Abraham didn't want to look at him, they were too close for comfort, and it was making Abe nervous.

"Change of plans." Abraham says curtly. 

"What?" Champe blinks. Abe sighs, running things over one more time in his head.

"You'll take Arnold by slip 23, right near the pickup." Abraham explains in a whisper, glancing around still to make sure no one was looking at them. "He'll be on a carriage ride with his wife, just them, sometime between 9 and 10." He says softly, about to pull away and head off when Champe grabbed his arm, not letting him leave.

"Damn it man, I told you-" The new spy began, but Abraham didn't let him finish. He had enough of this man's shite, and he was going to assert himself.

"And now I'm telling you." Abe dared to meet Champe's gaze, glaring at him. He knew Champe meant business, but so did he. "Arnold is your job. So see it done." He says firmly, feeling John's hand release his arm. He wasn't about to stick around to hear Champe retort. Simcoe was his job, and he would see it done.

He started walking back toward his bunk, grabbing his hat and dusting it off while straightening the feather. He only did so because their Sergeant, Dowling, had commented on the sorry state of it. Apparently Arnold had gotten into his head with the importance of appearance. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Sturridge asks, almost seeming disappointed that he was leaving. Abraham almost let a smile slip. He must have been Joseph's best friend, if only for putting up with him. 

"Get the rum." He explains, in a hurry to get out the door. He was going to see Hewlett, but he needed to appease his mates with rum as well.

"The rum..." Abraham heard Sturridge mutter softly. He couldn't help but crack a smile. In an odd way he did like Joseph, even if he was a little infuriating at times. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he head out of the barracks and down the street. He didn't have to run this time, but it still made him uneasy to walk alone.

***

Hewlett was busy with paperwork, wondering when Abraham was going to visit. He knew it was tricky for him to sneak out sometimes, but surely he was getting better at it by now. He must have been up to something important, because he hadn't come early in the morning. I hope he's okay... He thought, drumming his fingers against his desk. His ears perked up as he heard a door open downstairs. Abraham? Hewlett could hear boots coming up the stairs, and down the hall toward his door. He smiles as he hears the knock at his door, getting up before he even heard Abe's voice.

"Hewlett, it's me." Abraham says softly, surprised as the door was immediately opened. He smiled however as he saw Edmund, quickly walking in and shutting the door behind him. Hewlett chuckles softly, pulling Abraham into a hug and kissing him on the cheek sweetly. He was happy his lover was okay. Abraham sighs contently, hugging the Major back.

"I missed you too..." The spy says with a grin, kissing Edmund on the lips quickly before pulling away from the hug. They needed to remain professional just in case Jacobs or O'Malley decided to walk in; besides, they had a lot of work to do and a lot to go over.

"I thought you'd be here earlier this morning, what's going on?" Hewlett asks quietly. Abraham met Hewlett's gaze, and his brow furrowed with thought. 

"A lot is going on... But I think I have a plan that can kill Simcoe." He explains, starting to pace around the room. The Major tilted his head curiously, waiting for the spy to continue.

"Only trouble is I need you to forge an invite from Arnold to Simcoe, inviting him to his house at 10 pm. Arnold and his wife are going to be going on a little carriage ride, and while they're gone, their house is the perfect place to kill Simcoe. It has walls I can hide behind, and a place for Simcoe to be where he won't see me coming. The house servants will let Simcoe in, and I'll be lying in wait to kill the bastard." He explains. Hewlett hums, running through the plan in his head. 

Should everything go as planned, Abraham was right, this would kill Simcoe. But that was the catch, the trick was making it work perfectly. Unfortunately one of their unknown variables was Simcoe himself. The man was devilishly smart, and could see right through some plots they might have. What if Abe made too much noise? Why were the servants cooperating? What about the mess afterward? So many things could go wrong, and all of them could result in problems that would get one, or both of them killed.

"What if he doesn't come alone?" Hewlett asks with concern, looking over at Abraham with a furrowed brow. Abraham was quick to reason it out.

"Well, who would he bring? Falkoff? The invite will be for Simcoe only." The spy points out. Of course, it was up to Hewlett to make that little detail clear. Hewlett clenched his jaw. 

"What about the noise?" The Major asks, hoping Abraham wasn't thinking about bringing a gun to this fight. That would attract the attention of every redcoat or passerby alike within earshot.

"Knife to throat, quiet as it gets." Abe explains, putting his hands on his hips idly. Hewlett sighs. Clearly his lover had thought this through extensively, so far his plan was airtight.

"What about the blood?" He asks. If it was strangling, there wouldn't be an issue with that; but that method of assassination wasn't fast enough, Simcoe could fight back. 

"Pillowcase. Clean up the mess." Abe says quickly. Hewlett sighs, wondering again how he got the house servants to agree with this.

"How did you get the house servants to cooperate with you? How can you trust them?" The Major asks inquisitively. Honestly that seemed to be the largest hole in his plan. Abraham let a smile slip to his face, and Hewlett saw the gleam in Abe's eyes. The spy knew something he didn't. Abraham didn't have to say anything, he knew Edmund would understand from his silence.

"More spies..." The Major mutters softly. Abraham smirks, patting Hewlett on the arm playfully. He knew Edmund would understand.

"Yeah, now you're getting it." He says with a little scoff of a laugh. Edmund rolls his eyes. 

"You rebels are something else..." He whispers softly, thinking about this for a moment. The servants in Arnold's home were spies. Where else did Washington have eyes? He brushed the thought away; it didn't matter to him where spies were, as long as they could help kill the un-killable beast, Simcoe. This plan seemed like it was going to work.

"You know it's the best plan we have so far. You know it'll work." Abraham points out, gently taking Hewlett's hand. Edmund looked down at his lovers hand, tightening his grip. Abe was steady, but he could feel himself shaking. Hewlett couldn't explain the seed of fear in his heart. This plan seemed sound, but why was his mind screaming at him to pull Abraham away from it? Something was going to go wrong, he could feel it. Still, he wanted to give Abraham the benefit of the doubt. Abraham could die on this mission, but neither of them would live to see a future if they didn't try.

"It could work." The Major says softly, letting go of the spy's hand as he walked around to the back of his desk. Abraham sighs, leaning over the desk and putting his hands on it to balance himself.

"It will." He says firmly, confident, and desperate. He wanted this plan to work. He needed it to work if they were going to get away from this war and live a quiet life at Whitehall. "If, you get the message to Simcoe, and make him believe that it came from Arnold." Hewlett nods, thinking it over. That was all he had to do, forge a summons. However that wasn't the problem. He could use samples of Arnold's letters quite easily to forge a letter and a signature.

"Forging the summons isn't the problem. Injecting it properly into the courier system, that's the trick." Edmund says softly. He knew that much at least. The Major watched as Abraham picked up his quill pen smoothly, and offered it to him. Abraham knew Hewlett could do it. He was just as smart as Simcoe, even if Edmund didn't think he was sometimes.

"Well, then work your magic, and the bastard dies tonight." The spy implores to the Major. Hewlett's eyes raised from the quill to his lover's gaze, locking himself in. Abraham's eyes gleamed with fiery passion; while Hewlett's churned like a stormy sea.

They knew this was risky, and how dangerous Simcoe was, but they didn't have a choice. The beast had to die.

***

Abraham was standing guard in front of Arnold's home with Sturridge now, the moon shining down upon them as the night drew on. Peggy and Arnold had already gone, but it was hardly 9:45. Simcoe wouldn't be getting his fake invite until 10 pm. He had never stood guard anywhere with Sturridge before. So far, he had been quiet, but he was almost certain that the silence wouldn't last for long.

"This isn't too exciting, is it?" Sturridge asks quietly. Abraham rolled his eyes. Great, now he isn't going to shut up...

"No, but it's better than dumping out shit buckets." Abe says softly, hoping futilely that Joseph would stay quiet. 

"Maybe, but I don't see why you so desperately needed to be here tonight of all days." He was thoughtful, quiet for a moment before piping up again. "Are you going to try and sneak off to Holy Grounds again?" Joseph asks quietly. Abraham sighs, shaking his head.

"No, why the hell would I do that? I'd rather not get yelled at by Dowling." Abraham explains. Sturridge nods, seeming to think this was an acceptable answer. Abe glances over at him; Joseph still had that look on his face that told him he wasn't about to shut up.

"You snuck off to visit the head of intelligence, though..." He began, thinking hard. Abraham wasn't sure what kind of conclusion he would come to, but he figured it wouldn't be too clever. "Seems like an hour and a half would be a bit more time than you need to discuss something though." He reasons. Abraham swallowed, hoping Joseph wasn't secretly a genius. He doubted it, but this was still putting him on edge.

"You went off to get the rum earlier today, but you were gone for 45 minutes. Something like that should have only taken 10 minutes. 15 tops." He kept talking, going through his thoughts aloud. Abraham swallowed. Clearly Sturridge had a good mind, because he had to admit, that was a sharp observation. He could only hope that he wouldn't make the connection.

"You visited the intelligence Major again today, didn't you?" He figures it out. Abraham wanted to curse under his breath, clenching his jaw instead. Sturridge looked over at him curiously, wondering why Abraham was being so quiet. Abe realized that Joseph was waiting for a response.

"Yeah, I did." He says softly. He hoped again that Sturridge would leave it at that, but he knew he wouldn't. 

"Well you visited him for an hour and a half the other day... That's enough time for anyone to discuss anything of importance. In which case there wouldn't be any need for you to have visited him today." He says cleverly. Abraham swallows. His heart was starting to pound again, and he stared off into space. He didn't want this plan to kill Simcoe to fail before he even got in the house.

"What's going on with you and the Major?" Sturridge asks. However, Abraham could hear the smile in his voice. He glanced over at Sturridge only to see he was grinning smugly at him. He seemed to have an idea of what was going on already, not with his plots or plans, but his relationship with him.

"Uh... Nothing. Don't worry about it." He says softly. His face betrayed him, and he started to flush a bright pink. His ears burned hot with embarrassment as Sturridge giggles like an idiot.

"I knew it! You were romanticizing with him.~" He teased, making Abraham want to pull his hat down over his face.

"Fine, yes, I am. What's it matter to you?" He asks, a little flustered. Sturridge didn't seem too bothered, but it still made him a little anxious to admit this sort of thing. Joseph chuckles, whispering.

"Well nothing bad. My brother is a Molly, like you. Nobody else knows but me." Sturridge says with a little smirk. He was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "Why don't you tell me about him?" He asks. Abraham sighs, glancing over at Joe. He knew the guy wouldn't shut up until he got an answer, so he decided to come out with it, literally.

"Well, Major Hewlett is more of a soft spoken sort of man, always buried in his books, or his telescope, looking up at the stars. He's thoughtful, and probably the smartest man I know." He says. Joseph leaned in, listening to Abraham intently. Abe chuckles softly. Clearly he did this sort of thing with his brother, asking about his lovers.

"He's a little taller than me, beautiful brown eyes, brown hair... He's really skinny, but he's got these elegant long fingers. He writes something and you get entranced with the way he moves his pen." He smiles, blushing as he thought about that night with Hewlett in his home. "His eyes are so deep. I look into them and I can understand what he's thinking. And when he looks back at me, I can tell just how much he admires me... But exactly why, I'm not sure." He sighs, thinking about himself for a moment. What did Hewlett see in him? Sturridge hums softly, chewing his lip.

"Well, he sounds like a real charmer to me. A wonder he didn't find someone sooner." Joe says thoughtfully. Abraham chuckles softly, thinking back on the night they had shared under the moonlight, drinking together and talking about their first plan to kill Simcoe.

"No, he was into a woman, but she uh-- she sort of betrayed him. Crossed a line that should never have been issue." He explains. Sturridge frowns at this, still listening intently. "I was his first. I don't think he likes any other man, or has ever liked any other man but me." Abraham clarifies. Joseph seemed to understand.

"Ohhh..." He went quiet again, but Abe knew he wasn't done. He glanced over at Joe, seeing that a little smirk was curling his lip. "Have you had a roll in the hay with him just yet?" He asks, a playful twinkle in his eyes. Abe sighs, he should've known this question would come up.

"Yeah. And I know you're not going to shut up until I tell you about it, so I'll just spill it..." He took a deep breath, swallowing. "I've shagged him, but he hasn't really shagged me just yet. And... I'm looking forward to it once we get the chance." He admits bashfully, looking over at Joe as he tried to hide his smile. Joseph grins happily.

"I knew I could get you to smile." Sturridge says softly. Abraham chuckles at this, looking over at Sturridge as he continued. "It took a while, but I did it." He was quiet for another moment, deep in thought. "Making other people smile, makes me smile, and that's important to me... For the longest time I wasn't happy-- but one day I told my old man a joke, and his eyes lit up." Abraham was surprised to hear this from Joseph, but he was happy that he was being told this. He felt like he knew the man a little better.

"I want everyone to be happy, and I'm glad I could get you out your bad mood." Sturridge smiles at Abraham sweetly, facing forward and looking up at the sky for a moment. Abe smiles, adjusting his grip on his musket. They were left in the quiet, and Abraham had time to think. He sort of felt bad that he would be leaving the regiment soon; he wished he could have been better friends with Sturridge.

The crickets had been chirping for a while now, but Abe hadn't noticed before; too wrapped up in his own thoughts or listening to Joseph. He sighs, knowing it was probably close to 10 now. He needed to get inside and prepare to kill the murderous bastard.

"Well, not long left on watch now..." He looks over to his friend. "Why don't you go? I'll cover you." He says softly, hoping Sturridge wouldn't take it as an insult. It wasn't that he didn't want his company, but he did need privacy if he was going to kill Simcoe.

"What's in it for you?" Joe asks quietly. 

"Peace and quiet." Abe says with a little smirk, half joking. Sturridge grins at him playfully, pointing at him as if to say: "Oh, you!" He didn't seem upset, and quickly picked up his musket, heading off down the road. Abraham watched him amble away and took a deep breath. He had get serious about this; put himself in the headset that he was about to kill someone.

As soon as Abe was sure he was gone, he undid the flaps on his uniform that were holding his ammo bag in place, sliding it off his shoulders. He walked up to the door of Arnold's home, and knocked.

It was time to kill Simcoe.


	12. Fare Thee Well My Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraham tries to execute his plan to kill Simcoe, but things go horribly wrong, both in the house, and out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a hot minute since we've seen Simcoe, huh? Well, we'll be seeing more of him, and I couldn't be more excited!

Abraham was silent as Cicero opened the door for him, handing the boy his ammo bag as he headed into the living room, and over to a more hidden part of the room to hide his musket; Abigail handing him a pillowcase as he walked past. He took a deep breath, hiding his hat in the same spot as his musket. He took hold of the knife tucked into his boot, pulling it out. All of this was going to happen so quick... He tried not to think of what could go wrong as he gathered up the fabric of the pillow case; preparing it so it could more easily slide over Simcoe's head. 

He could feel his heart beating in his chest as he held perfectly still, and the quiet pumping of blood in his ears. Thoughts of Edmund flew past in his mind, reminding him of how important this mission was. All of this was riding on him. If he didn't kill Simcoe here, he could die. If by some miracle something else went wrong that didn't result in his death, he wasn't sure how he would handle it. Hewlett's questions about his plan were making him wonder if something else was going to- No. No he couldn't be thinking like this right now. Doubt and hesitation were only going to hinder him here. One flinch could mean the death of him. 

Abraham's heart jumpstarted as he heard a knock at the door, firm and loud. Abe couldn't help the shudder of fear that slid up his spine like a snake, coiling around his throat and making it hard to breathe. He swallowed, clenching his jaw as he told himself to calm down. This is going to work, he told himself. The door squeaked as it was opened, and the spy had to slow his breathing as he heard Simcoe speak.

"Colonel Simcoe to see General Arnold." The beast said in a lofty tone. Abraham heard the door shut, and a couple boot-steps as Simcoe walked in.

"The General is right this way." Cicero said softly. Abraham listened carefully, hearing them move into the living room. He stayed perfectly still, not wanting to make a floorboard creak, or accidentally make some sort of noise that could give him away. The fire was crackling in the fireplace, and Abraham heard the floor creak as Simcoe shifted. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he wondered if Simcoe was in position.

"He'll be right with you." Cicero added, and Abraham could hear him walk around to the hallway. The fireplace popped loudly, and Abraham swore he could hear the ticking of a clock. He was about to peek around the corner when Cicero waved to him. He shooed Cicero away with a quick motion of his head. He couldn't have the boy distracting him right now.

He took a long and slow breath. He exhaled silently, trying to rid his thoughts of doubt. His hands were shaking, and his heart was pounding like a drum in his head. He could barely hear himself think over the sound of his own inner turmoil. This man had to die. He clenched his jaw, thoughts of Hewlett flashing past. 

He saw his lovers eyes looking back at him with concern and care, the stars reflected in his gaze.

Everything that Simcoe had done to them went past. This monster had almost killed him on multiple occasions, some much closer than others. He had almost killed Edmund. This was the thought that made his blood boil, and his pulse race. He could feel his hands stop trembling, and his mind grow clear. He prepared to charge, his eyes lit with a blazing fury. It was time to return the favor. Simcoe would pay for everything that he had done, with his life. 

Abraham was about to rush in, when the door suddenly opened, Arnold's voice shattering the silence. Abe slid back into his cover in a panic. He thought he was nervous before; now he was terrified. His chest demanded him to breathe as his heart boomed in his ears like a cannon.

"Cicero, did you get my travel ca-- What are you doing here?" Arnold had clearly spotted Simcoe. Shit. He had to go, now.

"I... received your message." Simcoe says softly, seeming confused. Abraham didn't care, he couldn't afford to care. All he cared about now was escape. 

"My message? What message?" Arnold began. Abraham felt trapped. He was stuck in the middle of a traitor's home. Abigail quickly motioned for him, trying to guide Abe out of the mess he had found himself in. "Oh, you mean this? Clinton informed you as well?" The traitor continued. Abraham grabbed his musket and hat, leaving the pillowcase tucked in the corner as he slipped the knife back into his boot.

"What is it?" Simcoe asked softly. Abraham quickly headed for the back door, desperate for an escape. He looked back only once, and unfortunately he caught Peggy's look of horror and betrayal. He swallowed. He didn't have time to stick around and apologize, he had to go. His heart was pounding in his ears, barely letting him hear anything besides his own thoughts; which were screaming at him to run, get away from this place, and these people.

His breath was heavy now, and he ran out through the back door and through the backyard. He stayed low at first, peeking into the house to try and see if Simcoe was pursuing him. A flash of his green uniform was all he needed to see before his legs urged him to sprint. Adrenaline made his body feel light, and he would have felt like he was flying down the road if his mind hadn't weighed him down with fear. 

This was the sort of dread that prickled in the back of his head, making goosebumps shiver up his skin. He didn't look back, sure that Simcoe might be on his tail. He couldn't stop until he was back at the barracks, and safe in his bunk. Even then, would he be safe in his bed? Would Simcoe find him there and drag him out to be slaughtered? Fear made the irrational thought very real, and panic only made him run faster. 

When he finally got back to the barracks, he burst inside, his chest heaving as he tried to get oxygen to his aching lungs. His chest felt like it was burning, and his legs felt heavy from running so far. It took him a moment to realize that his fellow soldiers were all staring at him, every last one of them. All of them were up and about, which was odd. He didn't have time to process it, Dowling's booming voice called out.

"There he is!" The sergeant yelled, pushing past other soldiers and officers to get to Abraham. Abe swallowed nervously as he looked up at the sergeant. "WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?!" Dowling roared in anger, the veins on his face prominent as he screamed. Abraham looked up at him in a panic, unable to find his words. What kind of excuse was he supposed to give? 

"Get in your bunk!" His sergeant yelled, and Abraham obediently yelled:

"Yes, Sergeant!" He quickly headed over to his bunk, about to take off his hat when Sturridge stopped him, shaking his head silently. Abraham wondered what was going on, taking another look around. Everyone was standing by their bunk, as if they were waiting for something. 

Abe finally managed to catch his breath, but he still felt on edge. He hoped they weren't in trouble, though he doubted they would get punished this late at night. He hoped to God that Simcoe wasn't about to walk through the door and drag him off.

"What's going on?" Abraham asked quietly, his gaze shifting around the room again. Sturridge was the first to speak up.

"We don't know..." He began, but then Williams added: 

"I hear we're getting punished." He says in a whisper. Reid rolled his eyes, looking over at Williams. 

"In the middle of the night? Idiot." Reid remarked with a scoff. Abraham sighs, looking over to his friend Joseph, he seemed just as concerned as he was.

"Maybe it's a drill..." Sturridge said hopefully, though he didn't seem too confident. Not a great sign, Abe thought. The door to the barracks opened, and shut. Williams was the first to stand at attention, making everyone else including Abraham, jolt in surprise; standing tall and straight. Abe could feel the snake of fear slither up his spine again as he saw Arnold approach, and stop before them. He had a dispatch tube in his hand, and Abraham could feel the snake start to coil around his throat.

"Take care!" The sergeant yelled in the presence of the General. Abraham watched the traitor's gaze roam the crowd, not looking at anyone in particular. He felt the tension on his throat release a little as he realized he wasn't in trouble, specifically.

"Gentleman... the time has come for what we live for. Battle." Abraham felt the snake tighten around his neck like a clamp. He could hardly breathe without his chest shaking with fear.

"The glory, the honor... The legend of it. Today, we move on the enemy. We've received emergency orders from General Clinton to leave for Virginia tonight, where we will augment Cornwallis' drive to defeat the rebels in the south. Report to the docks, men. Sergeants, come receive your orders. Go, go!" The General finished his speech, quickly turning and leaving the barracks. Abe could hardly distinguish one beat of his heart from the next, blood was rushing in his ears and he felt like he might faint. He clutched onto his musket, praying that this was some sort of dream.

"Virginia? But this wasn't supposed to happen. We're supposed to stay here." Sturridge said fearfully. Abe was still frozen with terror and dread. His thoughts swarmed with memories of Hewlett. Would he live to see him again? His deep earthen eyes swam in his thoughts, reminding him of how much he loved the Major. He couldn't bear to leave him, but he didn't have a choice. Fearful and sorrowful tears welled in his eyes, leaving hot trails on his cheeks. 

"Woodhull..." Sturridge put a hand on his shoulder, and Abe looked at his hand before looking up at his friend. Joseph seemed extremely concerned. Joe didn't have any words of comfort, because he was just as afraid as Abe was. Sturridge only nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. Abe took a deep breath, wiping his eyes and nodding back. They had to stay strong, one way or another. Abraham had to stay strong for Hewlett; he would come out of this alive.

***

Abraham marched toward the docks with Sturridge and his fellow soldiers, his heart pounding with the sound of their marching. He hated this, and tried to tune out everything as the Sergeant ordered them forward toward the boats. Rangers were also being loaded onto boats, and Abraham dreaded the thought of being cornered by Simcoe. He almost surely knew Abe had targeted him, and that was what Abe feared more than anything. He was terrified.

Even as the moon and stars shined upon him, he felt like he was going through this without a guide. Hewlett was his guide, but he wasn't here. He didn't know when he would see his lover again, if at all. Would he even be able to come out of this alive without Hewlett helping him through every bump and turn? He was a boat in a churning sea, and Edmund was the paddle.

Abraham wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and wake up from this nightmare as he walked onto the boat, and was led down into the hold of the ship.

"Get the cover on that hatch!" He heard Dowling yell. Abraham clenched his jaw, looking up through the hole that was about to be covered by a grate. He peered through it just in time to see Benedict Arnold. But not only the traitor, no, his luck was worse than that. The familiar green uniform of a Ranger loomed next to Arnold, and Abraham felt his heart pound faster as he recognized his immortal enemy.

"I look forward to fighting under your command, sir." Simcoe said to Arnold in his typical lofty tone. Benedict nodded respectfully. Abe couldn't help but feel like a rat stowed away on this ship, Simcoe the lion that would catch him.

"Finally, we'll meet the bloody rebels in combat." The traitor said with a sigh. The grate was finally slid over him, and he looked up at his enemy through the holes.

"They've managed to survive up until now." Simcoe suddenly looked down through the grate, his gaze locking onto Abraham. Goosebumps slithered up Abe's skin, but he stifled the need to shiver. Abe was looking death in the face.

"But it will be on the field that we truly settle our accounts." Simcoe says softly, a sinister smirk curling his lips. The spy and the beast exchanged a look of understanding. It was an understanding that Abraham wished he didn't have. He prayed that this thought would leave, but subconsciously he knew it to be true.

One of them was going to die, and it wasn't going to be Simcoe.

***

Hewlett was passed out at his desk, still at his office. The day had been long, and he'd been sorting through paper after paper, trying to figure out where else Washington had spies. He had combed through everything he had on any spies, which was basically nothing. It was only some old papers that Andre's man; Gamble, had snatched from a Mr. Nathaniel Sackett. Unfortunately, the only name that these papers talked about was Culper, and he already knew who that was. There was no way he would turn Abraham in. If anything, he had to protect his lover from being found out. Now that, he could do with ease. 

His dreams were restless however, and he shifted in his sleep. He saw Abraham standing in front of him, looking back at him in an endless void of stars. Edmund's heart felt light with happiness as he saw his lover smiling back at him. This wasn't the first time he had dreamed about Abraham, but this dream was different somehow. A prickling dread creeped into the back of his mind, making him stir slightly. 

Something was approaching from the depths of the void, and Hewlett tried to squint, but his dream wouldn't allow him to. Slowly, he could make out a man's figure; tall and soldierly. His heart started to sink as he realized it was the beast he dreaded more than the devil himself. No, this man was a demon. Simcoe slowly crept forward, looming in the dim starlight. His eyes gleamed a cold glacial blue, sending ice into his veins. 

"Don't get any closer!" The Major screamed into the void, watching the beast smile at him; malice in his grin. He thought this to be a game; something he could win. The light around Simcoe cloaked him in an eerie silver light, making Hewlett's heart start to race. He heard the beast chuckle. 

"You can't stop me." Simcoe said softly, his usual lofty tone sending a chill up his spine. Hewlett couldn't just stand here, he had to do something. Abraham seemed oblivious to the danger creeping up behind him. Edmund could hear Simcoe's boots thudding against the ground in a constant rhythm. Hewlett growls, unsheathing his saber from his belt. He would end this beast now. He tried to walk forward, but found he wasn't gaining any ground. He tried to run, but if anything Edmund was getting further away. He could feel control slipping from his fingers as Simcoe gained ground on Abraham. He was helpless to save Abe.

"No! I won't let you!" The Major yelled, desperate as he realized he had his pistol in his other hand. He didn't know when he had taken it, but it didn't matter. He had a chance. "I won't let you kill Abraham!" He growled, raising his pistol and aiming carefully. With horror, he realized how close Simcoe had gotten; his hand snaking around Abraham's shoulder, bayonet in hand. The monsters eyes gleamed with a lust for blood, wide with a beastly hunger that could never be sated. Hewlett clenched his jaw, holding his breath as he aimed for half a second more, pulling the trigger.

Hewlett saw a brilliant flood of scarlet bloom on Simcoe's forehead, and the man went still. Blood trickled down Simcoe's face slowly, like a calm stream. But the feeling of dread didn't leave the back of Edmund's mind. He wondered what was going on, seeing that Simcoe was still standing. Slowly Simcoe's eyes drifted back to Hewlett, his gaze full of sickening delight. The Major felt panic rise in his chest as he realized Simcoe was still breathing. The beast took a deep breath, bringing his blade closer to Abe's throat. A sinister smile spread across Simcoe's face, his teeth stained with his own blood. 

Hewlett shook his head, trying to run toward Abraham as he cried out, pleading and begging for Simcoe to let him go, but his voice fell silent, and Simcoe pressed the serrated blade to Abe's throat. Edmund saw a flicker of fear enter his lovers gaze as Simcoe drew the blade across his neck.

"NO!" Hewlett screamed as he sat up, his nails digging into his desk. The Major's lungs were heaving, and a cold sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. He sobbed, holding his head in his hands as he tried to forget what he had just seen. 

"J-Just a dream... It's only a dream-- It was only a dream. I'm awake." He tried to convince himself, brushing his hair out of his face. Hewlett couldn't get the image of Simcoe's blood soaked face out of his head, nor the look of fear in his partner's eyes. He tried to think of anything else, but all he could manage to focus on was the ticking of his clock. 

He looked up to see the time, but was startled as Simcoe stood before him, his glacial eyes lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. He almost didn't realize a pistol was being pointed at him as he stared at the blood running down Simcoe's face. It shimmered black like obsidian in the starlight.

"You failed." Simcoe mocked, suddenly pulling the trigger.

Hewlett gasps as there was a loud knock at his door, accompanied by the sound of his clock. He swallowed, trying to find his voice as he looked up at the door. His candle had burned down to almost nothing while he had drifted off. It was still dark out. Finding his courage he looked at the clock. 2 am...

"Who is it?" Hewlett asks quietly, pinching himself to make sure he was awake. Thank god he was this time. He rubbed his eyes, knowing he had to get home. Though, there didn't seem to be much point now, it was only another 3 and a half hours until Abraham might get here. He remembered now that Abraham was supposed to have killed Simcoe this night. He swallowed, wondering if it was Abraham at the door, or Simcoe. His heart started to race, pounding in his ears as adrenaline made his chest feel light.

"It's O'Malley, sir." His guard answered. Edmund blinks, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up a bit more. He could only hope that Abraham was alright, and that his dream wasn't and omen or a sign.

"Come in then..." Hewlett says softly. O'Malley opened the door, walking in with a dispatch tube. Edmund cocked an eyebrow at this. This late at night? He watched his guard approach, offering him the tube. The Major took it, opening it and taking out the message, somewhat in a hurry. It had to be important. He unrolled the message and started to read it.

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he read the message. The American Legion and the Rangers were shipping out to Virginia, to assist Clinton in defeating the rebels in the south. He wanted to scream as he realized that both Simcoe and Abraham were alive, and were being sent to Virginia, likely to the same camp. Abraham could be dead before he got the chance to see him again. 

"Th-Thank you O'Malley. You're-- You're dismissed." He stammered softly to his guard, thankful that O'Malley listened and left the room. He shut the door behind him, and Hewlett was left to fester with worry. He had seen Abraham this morning, but now he didn't know when he would see him again. Fear seeded itself in the back of his mind. What if Abraham didn't come out of this alive? He would be right back where he started. 

He wouldn't have anyone to love, or to love him. He wouldn't hear Abraham's voice. He wouldn't feel his lover's gentle hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that everything was going to be alright, that everything was going to work out. He wouldn't be able to feel his partner's soft lips against his cheek, kissing away his tears. Nor would he feel Abe's arms around him, holding him close and reassuring him he was there, that he was safe. But most of all, he wouldn't see Abraham's eyes looking back at him, sparkling with life and hope. 

Hewlett sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Hope. He needed to have hope. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to have a optimistic outlook on this. If he didn't believe in Abraham, he might not get out of this. Edmund clasped his hands together in prayer. Maybe Abraham could feel him praying. He could only hope that someone would hear him and protect his lover.

"Please..."

***

Abraham sighs, running his hand over his head. It had been a few days since they shipped out to Virginia. Already he had been in a battle, but he was doing his best to try and forget it. He had been having trouble getting the image of a man spitting up blood out of his mind. He shook his head, cleaning his musket dutifully. He was sharing a tent with Champe, which he dreaded, but he didn't have much choice. If he had a choice, he would have shared a tent with Sturridge instead; he much preferred Joseph's temperament to Champe's aggression. Thankfully Champe was off elsewhere, and Abraham was left in peace. He inevitably started thinking about Edmund, his movements growing slower as he drifted into a daydream where he was holding his lover. 

He wondered if he would get to see Edmund again. He dreaded the thought of being taken out in his sleep, but this camp protected him. And at the same time, it protected Simcoe as well. He couldn't make a move on him, and the beast couldn't strike him down either, not without drawing attention. 

"There you are Woodhull!" Sturridge's voice made Abraham look up. Abe sighed with relief as he saw his friend, a smile coming to his face. Joseph grins, standing just inside the tent as he let the flap shut behind him.

"I was wondering where you'd set up your tent, we kind of got separated there..." He says softly. Abraham chuckles, shaking his head with amusement.

"Did you check in every tent until you found mine?" The spy asks. A dopey grin spread across Joe's face, and that was all Abe needed to see in order to know the answer. 

"Maybe, but I found you didn't I? Anyway, I was hoping we could just talk for a moment." Sturridge says softly, taking a seat on Champe's bed, facing Abe. Abraham cocked an eyebrow at this. 

"Talk about what?" Abe asks, setting aside the rag he was using to clean his Brown Bess. He watched Joseph twiddle his thumbs a bit, his brow furrowing in thought. Abe could see that this was going to be more serious, a sharp contrast to what he normally saw from his friend.

"I'm afraid Woodhull. I don't want to be here. When I joined, I didn't think we'd be sent anywhere." He confided in Abe. Abraham let out a little scoff, nodding in agreement. He had only agreed to be placed in the ranks because he was after Simcoe, and he was confident nothing like this would happen. He let Joseph continue, sensing he wasn't done. "I'm a coward Woodhull... I can't be here. I don't want to die." He says softly, his face wrought with despair. Abe frowns, sighing softly as he nodded.

"I'm afraid too. But we'll come out of this alive, I know we will... Now come here." Abraham sets his musket aside and gets up, opening his arms for a hug. Sturridge seemed delighted to get a hug, standing quickly and embracing Abe. The spy pats him on the back, feeling Sturridge relax. They stayed like that for about 30 seconds before Joseph finally pulled away, wiping his eyes. 

"Thanks Woodhull... I needed a hug." He smiles warmly, seeming in a better mood now. Abe was glad he could help him, patting him on the shoulder. 

"No problem. You and I need to look out for each other." He says with a grin, shooting Joseph a wink. "We'll keep each others secrets." Abe adds. Sturridge giggles softly, winking back. Abe's secret was being a Molly, and Joseph's was that he was a coward. Well, at least that's what they knew about each other.

"Right." Joseph agrees. There was a knock on the tent post, and a messenger poked his head in.

"Private Woodhull, General Arnold wishes to see you." The courier announces, before leaving. Abraham felt his heart pound faster again. He took a deep breath, sighing as he ran his hand over his head.

"General Arnold really seems to like you, wonder why..." Sturridge thought out loud. Abraham scoffed a laugh, suddenly thinking of a witty response. Sturridge had a way of cheering him up.

"I guess I'm just charming." He joked. Joseph snorts at this, a big grin lighting his expression as Abe tidied up his bed. "But seriously, the General is interested in my experience with trade. My father used to run hogs, and I grew up counting with his ledgers." Abe explains, pausing at the tent flap, since he knew Sturridge would have something to say.

"I'll go grab us some food while you're off hobnobbing with the General." Joseph said with a wink, as if to suggest this was an innuendo. Abraham snorts.

"Alright, try not to eat all of it by the time I get back." He says with a smirk, making Sturridge grin dopily again. Abe set off toward the small mansion there were calling headquarters in the camp. He took a deep breath as he headed inside.

It was very different than what he was used to, much newer than Whitehall. Not to mention some walls were covered in maps. It took him a moment to find the room Arnold was in, and the General greeted him as he walked inside, getting right to business.

"Ah, Woodhull. You have some experience processing colonial goods through our bureaucracies? Giving it all the proper appearance?" The General looked up to him, as if for advice. Abraham was a bit surprised to be advising a general. This was better than being taking captive as a spy at least. 

"That's a way of putting it, sir." He looked over at Cicero as the boy cleared Arnold's plate, taking them away to be washed. Abe stifled the need to frown at this, shifting his attention back to the traitor.

"Here's a list of the goods that I've collected during our time in Virginia." Arnold suddenly handed him a ledger, stuffed with papers and information. Abraham flipped through it, looking over the copious amounts of goods that were being taken. 

"Rice... sundries... wine, clothing and tobacco." Abraham read aloud, thinking these were likely amongst other things as well, like hemp and indigo that were grown in the region. However if they were taken, they weren't listed here.

"Several ships worth." Arnold said proudly. 

"And the munitions powder I saw your men pouring into the river?" Abraham felt a chill tremble up his spine as he heard Simcoe's voice. His heart began to pound in his ears again as he turned to look at the beast. He wondered if Simcoe could tell how afraid he was. 

"Colonel." The General greeted.

"General." Simcoe nodded to the traitor, his eyes immediately locking onto Abraham after addressing Arnold. Abraham could feel his skin prickling with fear, the hair on the back of his neck raised. Simcoe stared at him, unblinking, unfeeling. Abe felt like he was being analyzed, scrutinized for anything Simcoe could use against him.

"Better to dispose of it than to leave it for the enemy. No room to transport." The General explains. Abraham's gaze didn't leave the green-clad Colonel. If he looked away, he was afraid that the monster would gut him here and now.

"What with so many ships being filled with your newly acquired tobacco?" Simcoe remarked. The General hesitated with his response, choosing to instead change the subject. 

"I believe you know Private Woodhull from Setauket?" The General guessed. Simcoe nods curtly, his eyes never leaving Abraham, however. Abe felt fear rise in his chest as Simcoe took a step closer to him. He only held Simcoe's gaze because he knew the man would think him to be weak if he looked away.

"Yes. I was sorry to hear about your father." Simcoe says with mock sorrow; the slightest smile curling his lips. Abraham felt a fire of rage light in his soul as Simcoe provoked him. How dare he mention his father, when he was the one to order him to be killed. He would kill this bastard, one way or another. No one else would take that from him. Simcoe finally pulled his gaze away from Abe, directing his attention to the General.

"Major Dundas informed me of your plan to push further south." Simcoe says thoughtfully. Abraham let out the breath he had been holding, looking over the collection of information in his hands as he turned and walked a few paces away. He didn't want Simcoe to look at him, and he didn't wish to look back at him.

"Clinton stipulated that I consult you both on matters of consequence. Consider yourself consulted." Arnold explains. Abe only listened in case he gave away something important.

"You might want to let the men rest, sir." Simcoe says softly. Abraham wanted to scoff as he heard this. Did he actually care about anyone besides himself?

"Rest? Is that John Graves Simcoe just came in through the door?" Arnold asked mockingly. 

"Well rested warriors are more effective. You lost-- nine men on your last march." Simcoe said sincerely. Abraham was surprised to hear a hint of remorse for lost men. Well, of course he would be upset to lose people on the British side. 

"Wheat from the chaff." Arnold responded simply. Arnold on the other hand, didn't seem to care at all. Figures, Abraham thought; the traitor truly didn't care about anyone besides himself and his own glory. 

"The rebels are coalescing around Guilford County in North Carolina. General Cornwallis might appreciate our assistance." Simcoe said after a pause; it seemed like Simcoe was upset about the General's indifference.

"I have several prospects between here and Portsmouth that I'm keen to investigate." Arnold continued, once again changing the subject; taking the book from Abraham's hands. Abe sighs, clasping his hands together in front of himself idly as he tried to keep a clear head. He kept his gaze forward, but lower, and away from the monster who traded words with the traitor. 

"Cornwallis is a capable commander and I'm sure he has it all in hand." The General continued. Simcoe was quick to retort.

"Is this campaign meant to stamp out rebels or enrich your coffers?" The Colonel asked with a sharp tongue. Abraham would have smiled at this if it had been coming from anyone else. The General was silent for a moment, but almost seemed to know better then to challenge him.

"Don't worry Graves. You're entitled to your fair share." Arnold says softly. Abraham could tell Simcoe was getting frustrated with this man, just the same as everyone else was.

"With respect, sir, I came here to fight, not to loot." There was bitterness in the beasts tone, and Abraham was thankful this was directed at the General. Now the traitor seemed a little ticked off, his voice coming on a bit stronger than before.

"Well, fortune favors the bold, as it always has done. Countless others in this army have benefitted. Am I to be the only honest man in this war?" He asks boldly. Abraham clenched his jaw a little, biting his tongue to keep himself from blurting: Honest with yourself, or in the general sense of the word?

"I have opportunities here that I do not wish to waste. Woodhull, you will find me suitable ports to distribute and sieves in which to funnel the profits. Good?" The General ordered. Abraham wished he could have said no, but he didn't have a choice now. Abe responds with a quick "sir", nodding to the traitor. "Dismissed." Arnold says firmly. Abraham wasn't going to question him, quickly high-tailing it out of there, passing Simcoe on the way out. 

"Both of you." The General added. Abraham winced as he heard Simcoe's boot-steps following close behind him, gaining ground. Abraham quickened his pace, but didn't dare run, then the beast would surely charge. He opened the door, quickly heading out. He knew Simcoe was right behind him, surely thinking of something to say. 

"So, now you seek sanctuary under Arnold's wing." The Colonel says as he walked down the steps. Abraham scowled, trodding forward swiftly as he tried to keep his distance, but Simcoe's long strides made this impossible. 

"This camp protects you just as much as me." Abraham points out. The monster let out an amused chuckle, as if this was a challenge. 

"Perhaps. It's only a matter of time before we both find ourselves on the same battlefield." Simcoe said, a hint of malice in his tone as he loomed behind Abraham. Abe knew he'd be ready, he would have to be if he had a chance of surviving. 

"I'll be ready." He says boldly. Simcoe was quick to challenge him, much more combative with him than he was with the General.

"Will you? Muskets roaring, men screaming, the senses completely overwhelmed. A trained soldier learns to keep his head. For a novice it can be quite frightful." Simcoe continued. Finally Abraham had enough, and he stopped and turned to face Simcoe head on. He glared up at him as fearlessly as he could, though his heart was fluttering in his chest as he locked eyes with him. This was a game of cat and mouse.

"And when the cannon sounds, and the smoke clouds, who's to say which knife is whose? Which gun?" The Colonel threatened dangerously, his voice almost a whisper as he stared the spy down. Abraham felt a flicker of rage flare up, remembering everything that the beast had done to him, his friends, his father, and Edmund.

"Whose bare hands?" Abraham dared to inch closer, his lip curled in a hateful sneer. He could only hope that Simcoe couldn't tell how afraid he was; hear his heart pounding like a drum, or see that he was holding his breath. Simcoe examined his gaze.

"Oh, I grant you, when it comes to secrets and lies, you're the superior." The beast suddenly smiled, giving him credit where it was due. This sent a chill up Abe's back, and he could feel the prickling seed of dread in the back of his head. "But the field is my domain." Simcoe says softly, but Abraham could see right through the gentlemanly tone, and the soft spoken image he showed. He was a monster, lusting for blood, and eager to slay him where he stood.

Abraham swallowed as he watched Simcoe leave without another word. He almost wished Simcoe had said something more. He hated the words he was left with; words that sowed doubt into his thoughts. He tried not to think about it, turning away and heading toward his tent, getting his bearings again. One thing was for sure, he couldn't stay here. Unbeknownst to him, Sturridge had seen the end of this interaction, and was curious as he followed at a distance behind Abraham.

Abe quickly found his way to his tent, certain Champe would be there now. He didn't want to have to talk to him, but he knew they had to make an escape. He spotted the other spy in their tent, immediately addressing him.

"We have got to get out of here." Abraham confides in a whisper. 

"What about Arnold?" Champe seemed confused, clearly wondering if they were going to stick it to the traitor while they were here. Abe rolled his eyes. Arnold was all this guy seemed to care about.

"What? You want to try grabbing him from here? No. One of the Virginia riflemen will take care of it." He says quickly. John was getting angry now.

"You can't be sure, Abe." Champe says in a whisper. Abraham snapped, he was the experienced one, and he decided they weren't going to stick around.

"If we stay, we'll be forced to kill our own." Abe growled, his hand raised with anger; pointing. "We need to get back to our side." Abraham knew his expression was intense, but he was desperate. The only chance he had of seeing Edmund again was if he managed to come out of this alive; and those chances would be higher if they ran like cowards. He did want to kill Simcoe, but as the beast said: The field was his domain. He didn't stand a chance if they met face to face in combat. Champe turned and walked toward the tent flap, peering out at the other tents.

"We should keep our eyes peeled for an opening." John seemed to be in agreement with him for once. 

"Let's do it now." Abe suggested, knowing Champe wouldn't agree, but the idea was out there.

"Right time, we run." Champe whispered sharply. Abe knew he was right, he just didn't want to admit it. "And I can burn this coat." John spat bitterly, tugging on his uniform. Finally, something they could completely agree on. He watched Champe leave the tent, probably to get something to eat. Abraham sighs, sitting down on his bed and running his hand over his hair. He wondered when Sturridge would get back with their food. For a moment he was curious if his friend had gotten lost.

Sturridge suddenly walked into the tent, holding a plate of food, two biscuit sandwiches with ham. Abraham perked up at the smell, looking up at his friend.

"Oh, there you are Joseph, I was wondering where..." His voice faded as he saw his friends expression, which was wrought with worry and another feeling, one he wasn't sure he could pin at the moment. "you were..." Abraham finished. Sturridge swallows, sitting down on Champe's bed as he handed Abe the plate. The spy wondered what was going on. This was the quietest he had ever seen Sturridge. Abraham set the plate aside, not worried about his growling stomach for the moment.

"Joe what's wrong?" He asks softly. Sturridge took a deep breath, clasping his hands together nervously. Abraham noticed he was having trouble meeting his gaze. Finally Joseph came out with it.

"You're a spy." Sturridge said in a soft whisper, almost inaudible. Abraham felt his heart freeze. Shit, he must have heard everything from outside the tent. He started to panic, and his mouth went dry. They were silent for a moment, neither one of them seemed to know what to say.

"I'm not going to turn you in." Joseph says softly, wringing his hands. Abraham felt a sense of relief wash over him as his friend said this. He let out a long sigh, the tension in his shoulders releasing. "I heard you and Champe talking... He wanted to get Arnold, but you just want to run. And... Woodhull-- I want to go with you." Joe says, his voice trembling. Abraham swallows, nodding slowly.

"I know. And I'll take you with us, but I need to talk with Champe about it. If you come in and blab your mouth, he's going to jump on you faster than Arnold on a pile of money." He threw in a joke to make Sturridge smile, and thankfully it worked, making Joseph giggle lightheartedly. He seemed in an infinitely better mood after this.

"Thank you Woodhull. You're... You're my best friend." Joe says softly, smiling warmly at the spy. Abraham chuckles, getting up and offering another hug. 

"Alright, enough of that, come here." Abe mutters. Sturridge was quick to accept it, wrapping his arms around Abraham. Abe laughs softly, patting his friend on the back. "I've got your back. Don't worry." Abraham pulled away from the hug after a moment, and Sturridge glanced down at the plate of food. Abe chuckles, wondering if Joseph was going to ask if he could have one of them.

"You should eat something, you're thin as a sheet of parchment." Sturridge says with a grin, patting Abe on the shoulder. The spy let out a laugh, sitting down on his bed and picking up one of the sandwiches. He took a bite, and put his hand under his mouth as it crumbled a bit. Joseph chortles softly, nodding to Abe as he headed out.

"Don't choke on it." He warns, leaving. Abraham smiles, continuing to eat as he thought on what just happened. Sturridge could've just turned him in, but he hadn't. He sighs, knowing that Joseph must have trusted him quite a bit. Anyone else would have turned him in. Of course, any other spy might have killed him where he stood as well. Which might include Champe if he found out. Still, it was nice to know that someone he trusted had his back here.

"We'll get out of this Sturridge. I hope..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tense chapter, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> The work that has gone into this has been well worth it, and I'm already proud of what I've written. I poured over every moment I could, and actually decided to start writing earlier in the show than I originally anticipated. There were a few scenes that I absolutely HAD to write! 
> 
> Btw, I had to look very closely at a few moments of the show to give you some juicy detail, but also some more or less useless details. Oh well! I'm sure you guys will appreciate my attention to detail!


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